


Somewhere Cold and Caked in Snow

by The_Splendid_Wren



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Genre: Demons, Exploration, F/M, I just want more Ghirahim, Internal Monologue, Link is bitter, M/M, Off the map exploration, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change, There isn't enough healthy ghiralink, Zelda isn't that awful
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2018-07-14 18:53:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 45,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7185944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Splendid_Wren/pseuds/The_Splendid_Wren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the defeat of Demise, Link has relocated to one of the floating islands of Skyloft to recover from his adventure. A new enemy threatens to take his peace away forever and throws his world into turmoil once again. With the help of friends and a supposedly reformed enemy, Link prepares to explore beyond the three lands.</p><p>Title taken from Snow Patrol's "Shut Your Eyes"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm jumping on the Ghiralink bandwagon after all these years. I hope my story is a good read (please, let me know if it is not).
> 
> I have not written on AO3 before and I haven't written any fics in about 5 years, though I think I've read hundreds of fics on this site. I apologize if I missed any tagging or etiquette.
> 
> -Wren

It wasn’t that he had grown tired of exploring the surface. He was plenty interested in the things he’d missed while chasing down Zelda and facing Demise. The constant on-the-run feeling had kept him from noticing the small details, an oversight he’d be correcting in the future. 

No. He wasn’t tired of adventure, instead just recuperating so he could move on. 

Link stood up from his desk and stretched out the kinks in his spine. Each crack was as satisfying as a sip of pumpkin soup. He tossed down the pencil he’d been using and walked over to the front door of his house. 

He’d built his home on one of the floating islands; away from the bustle of Skyloft proper, away from the questions. It was hard, picking which island to use, but he’d decided the easiest one to fix up to his liking was the one where he’d used a bomb flower to clear out the stone wall. He’d used his digging mitts and bomb flowers to blast out extra space all the way down into the bottom of the island. 

The house itself was simple, extending out with a porch suitable for watching the clouds below. Link sat on the front steps, hearing the tinkling of the wind chimes he’d hung from the roof of the porch. It was nearing late afternoon and he was expecting a visit from Zelda. 

He frowned a little at the thought of the former Goddess. 

He and Zelda had sort of…fallen by the wayside. It wasn’t that they didn’t love each other. Of course they did and would always, you don’t just stop. It’s just…she’d used him and a stinging betrayal like that lingers in the conscience.

“Sqwuahhh!” It was the loud screech he’d some to know from Zelda’s Loftwing. The beautiful blue and purple bird circled overhead lazily, it’s rider laughing and glancing up to the sun. The frown dropped from Link’s face and he felt genuine warmth in his chest. There was something purely good about seeing Zelda happy and in the sky. He watched her drop down from the bird and make a soft landing on the grass. Her short bobbed hair, now a pearlescent white thanks to the somewhat mysterious ways of Impa, ruffled in the breeze. She waved at him, approaching with what looked like a book that had, by some amazing feat, survived a dump in Lake Floria or worse, the Lanayru Sand Sea. 

“Hey there, Link! I brought you something interesting,” Zelda said, walking up and plopping down on the steps next to him. She handed the book over without preamble and watched him with what seemed to be anticipation. Link ran his fingers over the book and squinted at the writing on the cover. Making out the fuzzy letters, his eyebrows rose and he looked over at his friend.

“You got a book from Golo? The same one from the caves?” Zelda smiled at his questions. It was rare that any heard him talk these days, more rare than it had been before the Demise venture, and his voice had changed so much. It was lower, rougher, and the rusty quality had eased as he spoke more often. He ran his fingers over the spine of the book, noting the material was native to the Eldin area. “Thank you, Zelda.” The former goddess vessel leaned her face on her hand and smiled. There was a comfortable silence as Link skimmed a few pages, pausing at interesting notes. Finally he looked up at his friend. “How is colonizing the surface going?”

“Pretty well, actually. Groose has been such a help. I think he’ll stay on the surface the rest of his life,” Zelda said, giggling and picking at the grass sticking up by the edge of the steps. “We’ve been working on building a village in Faron woods. The sealed grounds are the safest place to land from the sky so Groose and I figured we ought to have a safe space to stay when visiting. Not to mention it makes for a good transition between the outside world and the safety provided by the ruined Temple.” 

There was a silence and Link watched her smile fade into a more serious expression. “Link, father and I have been talking and we…we think it’s time you visit the surface again,” she said, speaking fast as if he would stop listening if she took a breath. The former warrior scowled at the ground, watching the grass sway in the breeze with not a care in the world. How nice it must be to simply exist, nobody choosing your actions for you.

“Zelda, I’ve told you. I’ll go when I’m ready. I don’t…” he began but he bit back the last part. He couldn’t admit that he was tired of it all. Tired of being used by Hylia, by friends, by everyone. Hadn’t he done enough? Had he not saved the world? Saved the Goddess? Ended the division of sky and surface?

“It’s been 8 months!” Zelda snapped, throwing her hands up in exasperation. She stood up and faced him, clasping her hands and looking at him imploringly. "You’ve been hiding here in your house and behind your books. Link, please, we… I just want you to be okay.” Link sighed and scrubbed a hand across his face in frustration, picking his words carefully. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to go back. I do it’s just... I don’t even have a sword anymore.” It might be an excuse but it was a fair point. He couldn’t just slice through the wild with his hands and academy swords are just about useless considering the worst creatures to plague Skyloft were Keese, Chu-chus, and particularly feisty Remlits. It would be the equivalent of using a butter knife.

“Is this because Fi had to go?” Zelda asked, frowning. “I-if it’s loneliness than I could go with you! Or you could take Groose! I bet he’d love to be an adventurer,” she said, trying for an encouraging smile. Link didn’t answer. When the silence grew uncomfortable, she stood up and dusted off her dress. “Well, you’re invited for dinner with father and I as usual. I hope to see you there,” she said, pausing and looking at him for confirmation. When no acknowledgement was forthcoming, she huffed and made a running leap off the island and took off towards Skyloft. Link watched her go before standing and walking up the porch stairs, weariness weighing on his mind. 

The wind chimes hanging from porch ceiling tinkled and chimed giving the warrior pause. They were moving rather violently compared to the amount of wind sweeping across the island, the little metal rods swinging around as though tugged on. Link stared and the chimes came to a rest. Quirking an eyebrow, he continued into his house, cautiously keeping the chimes in the peripheral of his vision. At one point in his life he’d have thought himself silly but he’d witnessed many a circumstance that started silly and ended deadly. When nothing happened, he pushed the suspicion to the back of his mind. 

___________

 

Dinner had been exceptionally uncomfortable with Gaepora remaining jovial in the face of his irritated daughter glaring daggers at the former warrior. Link had wondered whether his vegetables would shrivel up on his plate from the intensity of her scowl. The topic of him remaining skybound was never brought up and neither man at the table was willing to address the seething girl. Though he said nothing Gaepora let his gaze linger on Link as the boy took off on his Loftwing after dinner, concern trumping his tiredness from the day.

In all the time he’d lived and grown in Skyloft, Link had never appreciated anything like he did the night vision goggles for his Loftwing. His crimson Loftwing flew through the evening air and the fur on it back that made it so unique ruffled up in the headwind. He smoothed some of it down with a gloved hand and looked out over the clouds bathed in moonlight, watching as the knights circled around the outer islands. They paid him no attention and swooped past to patrol a different area, working together like they shared one mind.

He touched down gently on his island, pulling the night goggles off his Loftwing and allowing the bird to settle for the evening. Ever since his extended bouts of flying began the bird had chosen to stay close to it’s master, even on dark nights when no other Loftwing was near the islands. The bird nuzzled Link, gently nudging him towards his house with a firm headbutt to the lower back. The warrior chuckled and gave a solitary wave before going inside. 

The wooden floorboards creaked as he glided down the hall to his room, shedding the knight’s armor in a corner of the living room. He preferred the soft comfort of night clothes as he slid into his bed, sighing at the comfort of having a safe place to retreat at the end of the day. He had learned much from lingering on the surface at night, never quite sleeping heavily in case he needed to be on his feet in an instant. Here, in his own home, he simply melted back onto his bed. He didn’t bother to continue any of his writing or open the book Zelda had brought him. He was exhausted from a day of research and cleaning garden out front, no need to keep himself awake when he could rest to his heart’s content.

__________

It didn’t last long, peace never does. Link returned to consciousness suddenly, his internal clock telling him it was yet to be morning. Something was very, very wrong and it made his skin crawl. He kept his eyes closed, breathing even, listening for anything out of the ordinary. There was only silence. It was the kind of silence that was ominous, enveloping the room in stale air. Opening his eyes slowly to the darkness, he blindly reached for a match on his nightstand to light his bedside candle. His fingers knocked against a box of matches and he cursed at his clumsiness as he heard the box clatter to the ground. He was still debating what to do when he heard a sound that sent a frisson of fear down his spine.

A chuckle echoed around the small room, bouncing off the walls like it was coming from all directions. Link whipped his head around searching for the source, dread filling his bones like molten Eldin ore. He reached down and frantically felt around for the fallen matches, his fingers scraping against the wooden floor without finding purchase. 

A crackling noise filled his ears as he finally gripped onto a tiny match and twisted around to light the candle by his bedside. The room, now filled with a golden glow, seemed innocuous. He looked around for the source of his unease but saw nothing in the dim lighting. Confused, he sat up and rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. He froze as something brushed against his leg. Uncovering his eyes, he came nose to nose with a ghost. Or more accurately, a demon.

“Hello, Skychild.” 

The candle went out with a snap and Link was showered in a sea of diamonds. He scrambled to light another match, growling in frustration. His mind was whirling with questions and he deeply resented not having his sword anymore. Outside, the wind chimes jingled loudly as the wind picked up, howling as it parted around the corners of the house. Link cursed out loud and stood up, running out of his room with urgency. He ripped the front door open and felt his chest seize. 

Across the sky, great roaring flames licked at the base of the goddess statue like hell’s mouth had opened at her feet and it was spreading.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plea for help and a decision made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, Anon, for the lovely comment and to all for the kudos!
> 
> -Wren

Link dressed in his gear so quickly he didn’t remember doing so. His loftwing was letting out distressed squawks as he mounted, quieting only as he was strapping the night goggles on the bird in quick efficient movements. Far in the distance, the knights appeared to be frantically attempting to put the fire out as it moved through the grounds of the goddess statue. 

Questions burned in Link’s mind as he flew towards Skyloft but his thoughts centered on the current situation. There was little doubt that the fire had to do with Ghirahim, but as far as the warrior remembered, the sword demon was off licking his wounds from the battle of Demise. That or Link had officially lost it all and the demon lord was a hallucination. 

How would he put the fire out? None of his gear was equipped for this. Even if he used the gust bellows it would just aggravate the situation. He hadn’t reached a solution by the time he could smell scorched dirt and hear the orders being shouted by the knights that had been so distant.

He lept off his Loftwing and felt his shoulders protest as his sailcloth caught air. He touched down at the base of the stairs leading to the statue, looking around at the crowd of citizens who were watching in horror as the flames hissed and crackled at the archway above. The knights rigorously dumping water on the blaze were barking out commands as their efforts continued. Link spun around looking for Zelda in the crowd though she was suspiciously absent. He considered running for the academy when he was grabbed roughly by the shoulder and spun around to face Pipit.

“Link, hey, get it together. We gotta start helping the other knights,” he said, pushing Link towards the waterfall where a few brave citizens were filling buckets of water and handing them quickly to the knights who flew by. “We don’t have a way to control it. Can you do anything?” 

Link took a moment to really look at his friend, noticing the bags under his eyes and the tightness in his expression. When he didn’t answer, Pipit shook him gently. The screams around him faded as he tried to think seriously about what to do. He heard the splash of water as those closest to the waterfall dunked pots and pans. An image formed in his mind of a certain dragon who had the means to conjure up large amounts of water at will and he set his face in determination.

“Scrapper! I need the robot at the scrap shop. He should be with Gondo or somewhere in the crowd. Tell him to meet me at the Goddess statue,” he said, leaving no room for protest as he pushed through the surrounding people and made his way up the wooden stairs. Shouts rang out behind him but he ignored them, pushing his body to the limit. He was nearly out of breath as he reached the top but he didn’t hesitate to run directly into the fire. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the red sparkle of his fireshield earrings and a coolness rushed over him, the sweltering heat disappearing like it had never existed in the first place.

Covering his mouth and nose, he sprinted through the fire, searching blindly for the entrance to the chamber holding the Master Sword pedestal. If he could find it, it would be an easy climb to the top of the Goddess statue where he could communicate with Scrapper. The fire seemed to rage harder and the fireshield earrings were only able to defend from so much. The smoke was thick and musty, burning his lungs and causing his eyes to tear up. He squinted and everything started to get fuzzy around the edges.

Squinting into the distance, he made out the dark entrance to the statue. In a spectacular blue shimmer, a blinding light enveloped everything in sight like a blanket laid upon the world by Hylia herself. A shockwave threw Link to the ground, slamming his head against the ground though no pain followed. 

The light enveloped him like an embrace, his whole body feeling as if it was floating through the sky. Weightless, he let the light wash over him like a swift tide upon the shore of the sea. He hadn’t felt this safe, this in tune with his body since the trials of the three golden goddesses. 

It was over in a blink. 

The light dissipated and Link was pulling himself up from the ground like he was made of lead, coughing hard to rid his lungs of lingering smoke. As he opened his eyes, weary to assess the damage and ascertain the origin of the light, the hero was struck silent. Any evidence - scorch marks, dead plants, embers - was simply not there. The sacred grounds looked as peaceful as any other evening, the dark skies overhead twinkling with familiar stars and a light breeze drifting across the island. In the distance, a mantis hopped through the grass.

Link looked to the entrance of the statue and felt drawn in by a force tugging at his soul. In his heart there was a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, Fi had saved him and the Master Sword was once again choosing him as a master from all the way on the surface.

“I’ve been tricked. What idiocy is this, Master ShortPants?” 

Scrapper’s mechanic voice startled the hero out of his thoughts and he glared at the robot with undisguised irritation. He’d put up with the nickname in an effort to complete his quest. With the absence of Fi to smooth things over, he had thought, perhaps foolishly, that Scrapper would simply leave. Instead the robot had taken a liking to Gondo, the scrap shop owner, and remained on the island to transport items to and from the surface. Reluctantly, Link had accepted that this was a beneficial arrangement.

Without answering the bot he began to walk to the sword chamber, only to be stopped by the shocked voices of the villagers as they clattered up the stairs. He turned to find villagers touching the ground in confusion and Gaepora, standing at the front of the crowd, locked eyes with Link. The hero disappeared to into the statue without a word.

_________

The silence in the chamber used to send shivers through Link, but the absence of the Master Sword and the eerie calm was no longer unsettling. It simply was. Dust had not gathered, the air had not gone stale, nothing had changed except the lack of holy aura. 

The hero sat cross legged on the ground, running his fingers reverently along the pedestal he’d once pulled the mighty sword from. He willed it to give him some answer to what was going on but he waited in vain. No answer was forthcoming. He sat long after the sun had risen outside and moved only when he heard shuffling footsteps behind him. The hero closed his eyes, not ready to speak with Gaepora about what had transpired. Skyloft and it’s people had come to rely on him to explain any disturbances, as if they were his doing or responsibility. 

The footsteps stopped and he waited for words from the headmaster. The steps began again, stopping behind his back. Now very certain this was not Zelda’s father, he swallowed thickly as a shudder wracked his frame. He turned his head slightly and a swell of nausea overwhelmed him when he saw the familiar white boots of the demon lord in his peripheral.

With deliberate slow movements, Link rose to his feet while facing away. If Ghirahim wanted him dead, now would be the time to do so. The warrior was unarmed and still somewhat injured from the impact he’d suffered earlier. He would have no chance of defending himself. All he had to go on was the pride that would not allow the demon to slay him without a proper fight. 

“My, my, little goddess hero, you’ve grown since I last saw you,” the demon said, his greeting just as chilling as it had been in that final fight though his voice no longer held a metallic ring to it, like the sound of metal against metal. Whatever had changed, the demon no longer sounded like he was putting up a show of style or a demonstration of his power. No, he sounded resigned to his position and spoke as though to a comrade. It was this thought that had Link turning to look at the once proud lord who stood with his arms crossed over his once ruined chest. 

Ghirahim, Link thought, looked as though he was faded. He had once seemed to be invincible and had presented himself with a dramatic flair that had at once annoyed and disturbed the hero. Now his eyes were flat and he no longer stood proud. His shoulders hunched forward just slightly, enough to ruin the illusion of his bravado and make him appear smaller. In a weird way, it was disappointing to see and the nausea Link had suffered at his presence melted into pity for the demon sword who had been cast aside by his master. 

“Ghirahim. I see you survived,” Link said flatly. The lifeless eyes of the demon flashed with annoyance briefly, giving the hero a glimpse of the fire that had once driven the man to pledge himself to Demise. It was sort of...relieving to see that familiar look. At least the demon wasn’t an emotionally destroyed husk of a creature. At least he wasn’t eternally sleeping.

“Whatever convinced you that I wouldn’t?” the demon asked though it appeared rhetorical. When the demon made no further conversation, Link scowled.

“What is it you want? Why did you start a fire?” he demanded, wishing desperately for the sword no longer on his back. Ghirahim shot him an irritated glance before disappearing once again. The goddess hero looked around, searching for the enemy. The room silently remained empty. 

“It’s quite simple, sky child,” the demon’s voice rang out and Link turned to find Ghirahim running a single gloved finger over the stone map against the wall. He had his back turned to Link and the lasting damage from their last fight could be seen in the scars that shimmered in the dim light against the pale skin. “I wanted your help and I needed to get your attention. Being the righteous hero, I just knew you’d come running if your little sky people were in trouble.”

Link almost mentioned that the demon had chosen the one place on the main island that was unpopulated but saved that thought for later. Despite his loathing for the creature in front of him, he felt a small amount of guilt gnaw at his mind. He hardly enjoyed injuring anything let alone taking a life. Those who knew what he’d done had forgiven him as it had been a part of his mission. Seeing the scars from what he’d done on Ghirahim was uncomfortable.

On the nights where he’d bunk down on the surface, he had sent silent prayers to the golden goddesses to absolve him. He killed their creatures only in the hope of rescuing Zelda and the world he lived in. Fi had attempted at first, in her emotionless way, to assure him that it was necessary. He had detached himself from the act of killing and maiming quickly in order to survive. He’d never have saved Zelda if he was consumed by guilt and grief over his loss of innocence. 

Looking at the demon lord whom had tried many times to mortally wound him, had given his body fully to a creature with bloodlust, he was bizarrely relieved that he hadn’t dealt a true fatal blow. He did not, however, feel any obligation beyond allowing the man to live. “What could I possibly help you with?” he asked, using willpower alone to keep the sneer out of his voice. The demon turned and walk slowly to the hero, his steps quiet upon the stone floor. His face never changed from it’s blank expression and he stopped a foot away from the hero. 

“I detest living like a creature cast out of it’s territory. Demise, whom I thought undefeatable, was slain by your hand and I was left drifting among the dimensions. I spent months recovering, healing, from your attacks,” he explained, hands fisted at his side. Link eyed him warily but said nothing. The demon looked down and examined his boots among the stone of the holy temple. “My existence was once bound by a blade that is no more. I no longer feel a connection to this world and yet I remain unwilling to return to the realm of demons,” the lord continued. He was scowling at his hands now, the skin of his hands slowly forming into cool dark metal. His voice held a tinge of hysteria, as if trying to put unknown emotions into words.

“I am powerful. I do not need another being to control me and I do not crave subjugation.” The demon finally looked up and pinned the hero with his eyes. “I do not crave subjugation...but I want direction.” 

Link felt a little out of his depth, unsure as to how he should answer what amounted to a plea for help from a broken man. He thought about reaching out a hand in comfort, something he was sure Zelda would do for him in an existential crisis, but he couldn’t make himself move. A traitorous part of his mind considered the idea of a new companion, even if said companion was anything but holy. He would need a new blade to return to the surface and what better way to protect the world from a bloodthirsty demon lord than to bind him to the hero’s sword? 

Except, that would be like a betrayal, wouldn’t it? He would be betraying Zelda after all they had gone through. Did it matter? She would never trust the demon lord that had taken her from her home. But then again, it wasn’t as if she controlled his every anymore. There were the citizens too, who would depend on him both in Skyloft and on the surface. How could they trust him to protect them and their children? After all, the hero was meant to slay the evil of the world, not bring it under his somewhat dubious protection. 

Worse still, it was a betrayal to Fi. She had been unwaveringly faithful. Her final words, her final thanks, always remained at the back of his mind. He owed so much of his success in the goddess mission to her guidance. By the end, as she prepared for that eternal sleep, Link had been devastated. He was unwilling to show it at the time, a weakness he refused to show to Zelda and the others. Later, in the limited privacy of his academy room, he had grieved fully. What would she say now if she saw him accepting the one who had caused him pain?

She would say he was generous. She would say that he was a great and kind master. She would tell him the odds of Ghirahim killing him in his sleep and then advise him to use his mind to decide course of action. Use his heart to do what’s right. 

Ghirahim seemed to have taken Link’s silence as a dismissal and he turned around, no doubt considering his next move before disappearing once again. “I see your compassion is not as abundant as I had been led to believe, goddess hero. I will not lower myself to beg for your help a second time,” he growled, shoulders tensing.

“Stay.”

The word rang out in the empty chamber like an explosion. Both figures froze. The demon turned slowly to look back at Link, expression unreadable. Link, hand still outstretched in the effort to stop the demon, looked shocked that he had opened his mouth. He gathered himself quickly and dropped his hand to his side. “You should...stay.” 

“Are you quite sure of what you’re saying, Link?” The sound of his name on Ghirahim’s lips sent an unpleasant chill down his spine but the hero stood by his decision. Link nodded. 

White painted lips curled up in a smirk. The demon lord looked so much like his old self during the mission that Link suddenly wondered if it had all been an act and whether he had decided too hastily. It was too late to take back his words. He spared a second to pray this wouldn’t be his final act of bravery.

 

“Well then, shall we work out the details?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life begins anew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented! Sorry I kinda dumped two chapters on here and ran. It's been a hectic few months. I currently don't have my laptop (it's broken) so I've been using my roommates. I'll try and post when I can so just know I haven't abandoned the story!
> 
> This story is unbeta'd so any spelling/grammar mistakes are mine. If anyone wants to beta read for me or just wants to correct my grammar, drop me a line!
> 
> -Wren

Link had been ready to lay down his conditions for helping the demon lord when the sound of approaching voices interrupted. Ghirahim whipped his head towards the noise causing his platinum hair to float around his head. Seconds later he disappeared once again in a show of faintly glowing diamonds. The blond gritted his teeth in frustration and composed himself as Pipit came barreling into the sword chamber. “Link, are you okay?”

“Yeah...yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it, Pip,” Link said, waving him off. The other knight didn’t seem entirely convinced, looking around the room with thinly concealed suspicion. He zoned in on the floating goddess symbol and stepped forward to examine it, running his fingers over the cool pearlescent surface. The goddess hero watched him warily, raking a hand through his blonde hair and hoping to make his escape fairly soon. There was too much to process right now and he’d prefer to do it in the privacy of his own home, somewhere he could speak with the demon lord freely (or fight without an audience).

“What is all this stuff? This thing is floating!” the brunette was walking in circles around the room, a serious look on his face before he turned back to Link. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I know you’ll keep us safe.” The sincerity in his voice was a bit startling considering their interactions had been limited since leaving the academy.

It wasn’t that Pipit wasn’t a friend. Actually, he was a great friend, who had done nothing but treat Link as an accepted peer. The debacle with Zelda and his promotion to full knight had created a rift, however, and those whom he’d once flown Loftwings with now resented him. Too much had changed in the past two years. They’d all been working towards knighthood only to watch Link be fast tracked by the Goddess’ will. He wasn’t so naive that he thought they were all happy to see his success.

But Pipit...Pipit was genuinely okay with it all, it seemed. When Link had returned from retrieving Zelda, the older knight had nothing but smiles and congratulations to give.

Part of him wondered if he should feel any guilt or resentment towards them, his peers. After all, it wasn’t as if he was the most popular guy in school before the goddess swept him away. Back then it hadn’t mattered to him as long as he accomplished his goal of becoming a knight. Plenty of students and residents of Skyloft viewed him favorably, even now, though he hadn’t truly felt close to any of them besides Zelda and at times, his professors. He didn’t have the unwavering support of friends like Groose with Cawlin and Stritch. He could hardly be angry with people he didn’t know, especially if he had sort of jumped the line.

Pipit wasn’t like that it seemed. He’d only ever given friendly, though occasionally annoying, advice. It was like having the older brother Link had never had, there to guide and encourage. Even now, after mysterious events that could full well be Link’s fault if anybody ever found out about Ghirahim, Pipit still placed his trust in the blonde.

The sincerity weighed heavily on the warrior. If he were honest, he’d admit that he’d spared only a little thought about the residents of Skyloft while on his journey. Rarely, if ever, did Link find himself worrying about what may be happening at home. It could be the never fading optimism that permeated the floating island or perhaps the peaceful weather, but something about the place never seemed to be a cause for concern. Link wasn’t thinking of Pipit as he fought off The Imprisoned. Lying on the ground at night, trying to catch some sleep on the surface, didn’t lead to dreams about what Fledge was up to. What right did he have to bask in the trust afforded him by these people?

“Hey, maybe you oughtta get some sleep, Link,” Pipit shook him out of his thoughts with a pat on the shoulder. “You seemed deep in thought just now.” The blonde flashed an apologetic grin and nodded. He bent down to pick up his pouch, fingers just skimming the leather when he felt a gentle breeze ruffle his hair and lingering smell of metal. It sent shivers up his spine like he’d just been shocked by electric chuchu. It was times like this that he missed Fi’s unwavering support. He calmly picked up his bag and looked around, spotting nothing as he turned to follow Pipit out of the chamber. Unease settled into his bones once again as he left without another glance.

 

_____________

The sun had begun to rise above the cloud cover and it’s bright light washed over the grounds of the Goddess statue. Link shielded his eyes, noticing for the first time in the past day that he was exhausted. The villagers were no longer hanging around the temple entrance but he could see a group of them talking in the distance, casting wary glances up at him from the top of the academy. Part of him wanted to simply ignore it all, hop on his bird, and call it a day. Oh, such a big part of him that wanted that. Logically, he knew he needed to address what had happened with those he’d sworn to protect - _who looked up to him_ \- but the idea of having to come up with a believable lie was just….just exhausting down to the soul.

“Link!” He cringed inside just a little when Zelda’s voice rang out from the academy bridge. One more person to deal with. She ran up to him, arms pulled up against her chest. “What happened? Father told me there was some kind of fire!” He had to give her credit, she looked appropriately upset for such a situation but given she’d been nowhere in sight during the incident he was having a hard time feeling anything besides annoyed. He pushed the feeling to the back of his mind as he gave a brief rundown of events. Pipit was still hovering by his side, making a valiant attempt at appearing not to eavesdrop on the conversation. “What do you mean it just vanished?” Zelda asked when he was finished.

“There was never a fire to begin with. It..it was an illusion of some sort. I didn’t find a source,” he said, shooting Zelda a look when Pipit wasn’t watching. She seemed to get his message and bit her lip, looking down at the ground.

“I’m glad everyone’s safe,” she said and it was heartfelt. She’d always had this tick where she clasped her hands together behind her back that only came out when she was being completely honest. A niggling voice in his head pointed out all the times she hadn’t done that in their friendship but he let it go unacknowledged. “You look tired. I’ll speak to everyone and you go on home. We can talk later,” she promised, blue eyes shining. Before he could even form words she was running off to the address the crowd, her pink dress flaring out behind her as she ran. A hand landed on his shoulder and he glanced to his side to see Pipit with a wistful look on his face.

“I wish Karane was that devoted to me. She’s a great gal but I’d bet my knight’s uniform that she’d still put her Loftwing over me.” The friendly remark left a sour taste in his mouth but he plastered a smile on anyway before giving a commiserating sigh. Link tried to remember anything about Karane beyond her face, having never taken much time to know the older students.

Well, he could put that on the list of things he should’ve done but never got around to.

Link waved Pipit off, slipping away from the crowd at the bottom of the stairs and taking a running leap off the nearest ledge.

The whistle of the wind past his ears was exhilarating, one of few things that still made his blood roar, made him feel _alive_. It was second to the feeling of flying his bird at dawn, something he was reveling in as he clutched crimson feathers.

His Loftwing veered to the right and flapped it’s great wings, launching into the morning sky in great powerful strokes. Link could do this forever, could sit on the back of his bird and leave his responsibilities behind, but deep down, underneath the resentment and bitterness he still wanted to be a knight and protect the people of his world. He’s a hero down to his bones, down to the triforce on the back of his gloves, down to the fire in his eyes.

___________

 

So, it is with more determination than he had the day before, that he touches down on his island and marches into his house. The screen door slams behind him, rattling the wind chimes on the porch as he walks into the living room. “Alright, show yourself. Let’s figure this mess out,” he demanded from the empty room, dropping his adventure pouch on the ground by his sofa. There was a moment of silence where he wondered if he’d imagined this whole situation, that maybe he was finally going into shock after the battle with Demise, but the familiar chuckle of the demon lord dispelled the small amount of hope he had left.

“You act like you’re not happy to see me.” Ghirahim looked just as tired as he had before but his ever present smirk was still stretched across his sharp features. “What a quaint little home, covered in dust.” He’d made himself comfortable, sitting daintily on the arm of a chair as he fixed his platinum hair. “Well, say what you must.”

Link glared, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t like you. You’re a cowardly, cruel weapon who only cares about his own survival,” he began, tensing a little when Ghirahim stared him down coldly. “But,” Link moved to sit on the sofa. “But, I also need direction in my life. It pains me -literally, _pains me_ \- to admit this but I miss the thrill of being on a quest. The quiet life here is boring.”

“Oh, please, Sky Child. You call me cowardly and yet here _you_  are, running away from the very people you saved. And in the vulnerable time when they need you to guide them in their move to the surface. How very _brave_  of you!”

“Shut up,” Link snapped, clenching a fist tightly at his side. “I don’t have to justify myself to you.” Ghirahim laughed, throwing his head back and exposing his pale throat. Link narrowed his eyes, looking away from the sight in disgust.

“Quite right, Link. You do not. I simply thought I ought to return the favor of pointing out your flaws,” the demon lord said, clapping his hands together. “Now,” he said, voice light and enthusiastic. “The playing field is leveled and we can get down to business.”

“Fine,” Link conceded, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You said you want direction. How can I do that for you? Your sword form was destroyed, wasn’t it?”

Ghirahim slid fluidly into into the chair, stretching languidly like a cat. “Oh yes, it was thoroughly ruined when my master was _vanquished_ and all that. I was adrift like a beautiful leaf fluttering in the winter wind, nothing solid to anchor myself to. Simply put, I’d have to attach my life force to a new blade in order to stay on this plain of existence. Until then, my powers drain away like crimson blood from a wound,” he said, inspecting his fingernails. Link mulled it over for a moment, deciding what to do.

“So, in theory, I could have a sword made, you bond to it, and you go on your way?”

“Oh, not just any old sword, my you naive brute. I _am_  a demon , even in this weakened form. If I were to bond to the kind of blade forged by your inferior people-” Link glared. “Well, let’s just say it wouldn’t last long. In fact, I’d say the blade would disintegrate into delightful little sparks.” The older man wiggled his fingers and stuck his disturbingly long tongue out.

“Okay...so we find you the right sword and then what? You go and find another evil lord to wield you?” Link asked, watching the other man drum his fingers. He wasn’t sure this was all such a great idea anymore. The were two paths here; either he found the demon a sword and sent him into the hands of another source of evil or he ends up stuck with the man as his weapon for the foreseeable future. It could be a death sentence. Socially, he’d be an outcast, even more so than he already was. Especially if Zelda and Groose were to find out exactly who it was he was assisting. They could tell the whole town about the demon’s role in the goddess quest and Link would look like he was siding with evil after having just earned his title as hero of the world.

“Why, I would be free from any master. Able to roam about as I like, visiting the demon world and other lands at my leisure,” Ghirahim said, waving his hands theatrically. Link finally noticed his red mantle was missing. It wasn’t unusual but Link almost thought it made the demon seem more...relatable...when he was this out of sorts. “Of course, you must be wondering what you get out of this, hmm?”

“Well, I don’t see an upside. Zelda hates you. You kidnapped her and ruined our lives. _You_ are the reason our world and friendship is strained.” His voice was slowly rising. “I really doubt she or anybody who knows what happened will forgive you. They’re not going to support me helping you.” Link stood up, walking to the open kitchen and filling a glass at the sink. “It would be my fault if you went on a rampage after getting a new blade. If you were to harm even one person they would condemn me, hero or not.” He took a sip of water, trying desperately to regain his composure.

It was his mistake, really. Lesson one in defense training: never turn your back on your enemy. Not even a weakened one. A horrible shudder went up his spine as the demon lord leaned over his shoulder, cool skin touching Link’s cheek and smelling of something unnatural and metallic. The cup clanked harshly against the bottom of the sink. “Oh, but there _is_ something in it for you. You crave the thrill of fighting enemies; the awe of discovering new places. Searching for a new blade would lead you places you couldn’t wrap your tiny mind around. There are lands beyond those you've traversed.” A gloved hand lay over the hero’s chest, resting against his heart. “Oh, just hearing about it has your weak little heart fluttering.” Ghirahim chuckled, skimming his nose along Link’s ear suggestively.

That was all it took for the goddess hero to shove away and stomp back to the living room. “Stop _touching me_.” The demon lord simply chuckled, sitting himself on the kitchen table and staring at the hero with his dark eyes. “I have to think about it. I have to be surface side tomorrow to help with building a new village for the Skyloft people. I guess...I think I’d be able to get supplies easily eno-” he cut his sentence off. Excitement was already settling in and he couldn’t afford to get ahead of himself.

It suddenly occurred to him that he had no idea where to get a sword of Ghirahim’s caliber. Sure, he could have one forged in the bazaar despite the demon's warnings or, with his own expertise, could probably temper a regular blade into something stunning. It just seemed like it would be too easy to find a run of the mill blade and be done. He'd have to consult a few people before making a decision. “I have a few errands to run before I deal with any of this. I need you to disappear to wherever it is you go. I didn’t get a good night’s sleep thanks to someone _setting the goddess statue on fire_ and this might be might last chance to catch up before everything goes sideways.” The hero glared at the demon, who seemed miffed to be dismissed and was frowning deeply. For a moment, the hero thought he’d have to suffer the man’s presence even in his own home but there was a snap of gloved fingers. The only the sound left in the house was the jingle of wind chimes and Link’s quiet breathing.

___________

Far away, beneath the clouds, under blue sky in a land covered in a soft blanket of snow, a creature inhaled sharply with it’s scarred lungs. Long sleeves of thick fur slid down over wrinkled hands as they brushed ink onto a chilled stone wall. Long broad strokes of rusty red, soft feathery strokes of earthy brown, and soft smears of pale pink were laid carefully against cool limestone.

“Ohhh,” the creature groaned. “Ohhh, I never expected this. Never, ever, expected this,” it grumbled. A fire crackled off to the side, an old dog like animal soaking in it’s warmth. The dog, or rather a dog and bird hybrid, cracked a bright orange eye open to watch it’s master. When it heard nothing more than grumbling it drifted back into a twilight sleep, sighing deeply.

“Up! Get up! Kozu, you lazy old lump, get your feathered behind over here,” the creature by the wall demanded shrilly. Kozu hauled itself off the ground, shaking off the chill from leaving the fire. It’s claws clicked against the ground lazily as it loped over to the cave wall. “The story has changed. I thought it to be over with the banishment of the great Demise,” the creature mused. Kozu blinked and tilted its head to the side with confusion. “Yes, life begins anew and with it comes new rises to power.”Kozu stared at the painting critically, committing the figure on the wall to memory. “We have a new queen,” the creature announced, clasping its hands together. “Go get her.”

Kozu turned on it’s heels and bounded off into the snow, body disappearing over the horizon in a matter of minutes. Life begins anew.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New weapons, old places, and old faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter after who knows how long! Thank you to everyone who left comments and kudos!
> 
> And Merry Christmas Eve from here in the US :)
> 
> (Chapter is un beta'd. All mistakes are on me.)

Link didn’t open his eyes until late morning, sore muscles aching as he swung his legs over the side of his creaking old bed. All hope for the night before being a tragic bout of nightmares was dashed as he glanced through his bedroom doorway. Ghirahim, lithe body sprawled across the sofa yet artfully reclining, was holding loose pages of paper in his gloved hands. It was off putting to see the man doing any domestic activity but it was short lived when the demon glanced over. The hero flushed as the demon wiggled his long tongue at him, eyes shimmering with humor and just a tinge of malice.

Kicking the door shut, Link attempted to gather his scattered thoughts as he dressed for the day. His adventure pouches and bag were thrown lazily in a corner, waiting for him to pack for his next quest. Which was coincidentally today. He was completely out of practical supplies like potions and his storage box of bugs had been dusty with disuse since he’d defeated Demise. The errands he’d thought of before crashing the night before suddenly returned to the front of his mind and he groaned internally at having to deal with other people.

Gathering up empty bottles and his wallet, he swept out of his bedroom to shove his sockless feet in his worn boots. “I’ll be back. Don’t kill anybody and don’t ruin any of my belongings,” he addressed the demon, curt voice leaving no room for disagreement. When he didn’t receive an answer he reached for the front door, pulling it open halfway before a hand reached over his shoulder to slam it shut. Ghirahim crowded Link up against the door from behind, pushing Link’s chest to the hard wood in front of him with bruising force.

“I feel I should remind you that I am much older and much stronger than you. You may have bested me when I was under another’s rule but I have survived thousands of years in the volatile demon world where you wouldn’t dare to piss without arming yourself to the teeth. I am not a whipped dog that heels at your command.” The words were hissed in the warrior’s ear, the other man pressing him even closer to the door until Link could hear the wood begin to protest.

As much as he hated to admit it, the demon was right. There many times when he’d underestimated the former sword spirit and it had cost him dearly. He couldn’t afford to relearn that lesson with no sword and a pitiable will to live . His pride wouldn’t allow for him to apologize outright but he could acknowledge that perhaps he was a little rash. “You’re right, you’re not a dog. Just a dangerous enemy with a history of violent behavior. Forgive me for being wary of your presence after the many times you attempted to remove my head from my body.”

The other man huffed, an obnoxious and dramatic noise, but released the hero. Before he disappeared from sight, he left the hero with a warning, “Run your errands, sky child, and remember that the snap of my fingers could be the last sound you ever hear.”

 

_______________

 

Those words still bothered Link as he rode his Loftwing towards the main island, distracting him enough to miss the enjoyment of the cool breeze caressing his skin. He landed, focusing instead on who he needed to speak with. His legs carried him by muscle memory to the academy, bypassing the school in favor of entering the sparring hall. Eagus was standing at the front of the room, inspecting a wooden sword with a look of concentration only a man who truly enjoys his job could muster. Link figured he was the best person on this floating island to ask about swords considering he provided all knights in training with them. At the very least he could recommend materials.

“Link! It’s great to see you! Congratulations again on bringing Zelda home. It’s been such a long time since anyone’s heard from the great goddess Hylia’s hero!” Eagus’ voice boomed through the hall and despite his bitterness at being “the chosen hero”, Link felt the praise warm his heart. Like Pipit, Eagus had been nothing but sincere to Link since his return which was refreshing. The man was still as imposing as usual but he waved Link over with enthusiasm only a softie at heart could manage. “What can I do for you?”

“I need a sword,” Link replied, scratching hesitantly at the back of his neck. “I’d use my old practice one but…” he trailed off sheepishly. Eagus nodded thoughtfully, rubbing his chin.

“You need a new sword, forged with your specifications,” he mused, walking over to the storage room behind the main workout area. Link followed behind, praying he’d get some answers from the one man who knew swords. Well, one of the only men. Peatrice’s father knew how to work with swords as well but Link couldn’t bare to encourage that man’s daughter in her pursuit of making Link her boyfriend. No matter what he said to her, she was convinced he was flirting in some way. He could tell her she smelled like Gaepora's used bath water and she'd take as a proposal.

Link knew swords too but he’d only ever dealt with the one. The Master Sword was it’s own category. There was no comparing it to any other with it’s sleek powerful blade and chiseled winged crossguard. It had been made for him, literally, with a grip that was molded to his fingers. The balance had given it the feel of being a part of his body, a graceful extension of his being through his fingertips to the apex of the steel blade. He doubted he’d ever wield a blade, forged or found, that could compare on any level to the soul deep connection he’d had with the Master blade. Just the thought made him miss Fi once again, like a phantom limb reaching out but finding nothing there. “I may have something you could use but it’s nothing compared to what you’ve used.”

Eagus’ words shook Link from his gloomy thoughts and he attempted to perk up, eyeing the blade presented in front of him. It was nothing overly intricate though it was hardly a piece of scrap metal found in an old closet. Link wrapped a gloved hand around the grip and tested out the balance. It was light; a little too light for his liking, actually. Eagus waved him towards the training room, pointing to the technique stations around the floor. “You know the drill. See if that’ll work until you can find something better.” Link nodded and stepped in front of the first log, sword at the ready.

No turning back now.

 

___________________

 

It was an hour later that Link, sweaty but satisfied, walked through the bazaar in the center of Skyloft. It was more lively than it used to be, with more products on sale than ever. After he’d formally introduced Skyloft residents to the surface, they’d begun to bring items back for sale to those who wanted a rare keepsake from “the new world”. Some of it was complete junk from places Link hadn’t even bothered to stick around and explore. Other items were rare and exotic, just the thing to extort money from some poor villager with an eye for shiny knick knacks.

At the supply shop, Rupin had taken to selling handmade bags and other random items from materials found in Faron woods. Gondo, enthusiastic gearhead that he is, was having the time of his life creating new items with the help of the Mogmas and their treasure hunting expertise. Even Stritch had gotten in on the action by opening his own bug stand, selling or trading insects to potions customers.

Link smiled faintly. At the very least, he was glad to see that the people he had fought for were flourishing. It would have been a worthless sacrifice if no progress was made. The residents looked happier, full of life. Even if he couldn’t feel that way without doling out pardons to those who damaged him, others should be able to live better lives.

“Young man!” The shout caught Link off guard and he nearly tripped over the rug beneath his boots. “Young man, come here.” The hero turned to the caller and groaned when he met the wide, marble like eyes of the fortune teller. The man was incredibly unpleasant to deal with but he could, possibly, maybe, give clues as to where Link might need to go. “You, I have seen great, interesting, astounding things in your future. Just ten rupees and I will use these magnificent eyes to gaze upon the glorious road of which you shall follow.”

Rolling his eyes, Link pulled out two tiny blue rupees, being careful to avoid the fortune teller’s disturbingly tiny hands as he dropped them in an outstretched palm. The seer focused hard on his crystal ball and made a show of “seeing” whatever was in the depths of the clear orb. “I...I see..Yes! I see fear and uncertainty but...it is not yours…it was all there was...A man...no! A beast! It will… It will…” Link, despite his skepticism, felt his muscles tense at the ominous tale. The teller strained, his eyes open wide enough to appear as though they took over his entire face. “I… cannot see anything more. You must be cautious, young man. Do not trust the shadows.” The man closed his eyes and waved a tiny hand at the hero, shooing him away.

That was...unsettling, to say the least, and it had Link on edge. A feeling of anxiety crept up his spine as he continued to buy the supplies he would need for a trip to the surface. He hardly cracked a smile, even a polite one, as he bought potions from Luv’s shop. Through the curtains of the doors he could see the light beginning to shift towards early afternoon, a sign that he needed to get a move on. Just as he was about to step outside, a glimmer of metal caught his eye. Sitting on Gondo’s work table was a dagger, hardly the length of Link’s forearm but beautifully made. Like all weapons of Skyloft, it was simple but strong.

“Hey, kid! It’s been ages. Got anything you need me to upgrade? I’ve got a whole new range of stuff to work with now’t Scrappers’ got more places to look an’ all. Those Mogma sure know how t’find the best materials!” Gondo, cheerful as ever, waved a screwdriver around wildly in his enthusiasm. “I’ve even started to tinker with my own creations.”

“Actually, uhl, that dagger...is it for sale?” Gondo’s face lit up as he picked the short blade up, twirling it around. The metal reflected the light from the forge behind its owner, sending refracted beams all over the tent. The shop owner handed it over to the hero, letting the blonde feel the grip and weight of it. “How much would you want for this?” Link asked, reaching into his wallet. There was some kind of sensation pulling him to this weapon, like it was radiating from the blade itself.

“Ah, you’re the legendary hero, I’ll give it t’you for five rupees. Can’t let it get ‘round that I robbed our savior of his fortune,” the man said, adjusting his goggles. Link frowned and pulled out a silver and two red rupees. He quickly shoved them over the counter and put his wallet away.

“I won’t pay any less than this. I won’t take no for an answer, Gondo.”

“But that’s...even for a normal customer that’s way too much! Geapora’s gonna think I hustled you!”

“Throw in a sheath and it won’t seem like too much.” Gondo scratched his neck nervously but took the rupees and put them in his wallet. He pulled out a simple dark leather sheath, embossed with a crude Loftwing design, and slid the dagger into place to keep it snugly secure. He huffed but handed it back to Link who smirked and wished the man a very pleasant day, attaching his new blade to the belt around his waist. It was a comforting weight at his side, assuaging his concerns from earlier so they were nearly gone from his mind. Though it was lightweight, the sword slung over his back help to ease his worries as well though nothing could chase away the dread of returning to the surface in the coming hours.

 

________________________

 

“This place is ghastly.” Link narrowed his eyes but didn’t respond to the demon’s snide remark as they made their way around the outer edge of the Sealed Grounds. He’d been attempting to ignore the man all afternoon after the massive fit the lord threw over his new “home”. Link had pulled out the blade, placing it on his kitchen table to polish it when Ghirahim popped into existence. One look at the mediocre sword and there was a tidal wave of expletives washing over the hero’s pointed ears. To say the least, the sword spirit had been spitting out bitter commentary for the better part of an hour. “And to think this was the final battlefield we shared.”

“I get it. This place is run down. It’s ancient and decrepit...just like you,” Link said, muttering the last part under his breath. He waited a moment for retaliation but only a quiet snort broke ended the exchange. The forest was full of lively noise to fill the gap in conversation, though, and Link took a moment to let it sink in. He could hear the rustling of leaves as the breeze passed overhead. Somewhere in the distance, the massive falls of Lake Floria roared while the birds tweeted from their nests.

This, this is what he had missed after all his time sky bound. Something about the give of the damp ground under his feet, the vivacious energy of Faron Woods, touched him at a soul level that couldn’t be put into words. It brought back memories of the first night in a strange territory, when he’d frantically searched for a place to sleep where nothing could get to him. Nothing in his venture pack provided any help, the newness of the land zapping him of his survival knowledge. Sun sinking below the clouds, Link had shoved his body into a crevice of rocks with only enough room to curl up in the dank crawl space for a brief nap. Despite the mild weather he’d found himself shivering, the cool night air having little to do with the trembles. He had been terrified. Unsure of what he was doing on such a quest when just the day before he’d been free to ride his Loftwing and run around with the village kids. Sleeping in was a given, not a luxury. Safety was never a question.

That first night, he was certain the goddess Hylia had been mistaken. It was not Link who had been meant to be on this adventure. Fi had been silent in her vessel, no words of encouragement put forth to assure the terrified boy that he was indeed the chosen one. Instead, he slept, fitfully and always on edge, as the night seeped in around him on the surface. All the information he had been given, the responsibility, seemed insurmountable and he’d woken from a nightmare about the Imprisoned with sweat sticking to his cool skin like morning dew.

Ah, yes, the present Link looked back on that moment as his first real step into the goddess’ plan to use him to her advantage. He’d been thrust into the light with no direction and heaps of demands placed upon his inexperienced shoulders. The goddess pointed to his goal and he ran towards it with no questions asked, not bothering to think of his own need to deal with the fear brought on by the threat of failure.

“If you’re quite done brooding, perhaps you’d like to pick up those disgusting, poorly made boots and move along?” Ghirahim hissed, striding past Link who had slowed down considerably as he reflected. He glanced down into the center of the Sealed Grounds, the circle of grass left undisturbed since he had -unsuccessfully- slain the demon lord. A spark of blue shimmered from a distance, catching the hero’s attention and bringing his feet to a halt. Squinting, he attempted to make out what was causing such a shine from a patch of previously dead grass. When he couldn’t find a source, he decided to investigate from a closer vantage point. Ghirahim didn’t bother to turn around as Link launched himself over the edge with his sailcloth guiding him to the center.

The hero landed with a soft thump, the grass nearby swaying gently from the impact. The blonde surveyed the area slowly, gauging whether he’d been wrong about seeing something down at the bottom and had in fact lost what little bit of sanity he’d had stored up. Finally, his eyes landed on an object resting in a bed of grass as if it had been carefully laid there by gentle, loving hands. A gloved hand reached out to pluck it from the ground, setting it on a palm for inspection. Link stared, unsure what to feel.

A stunning blue diamond. Buffed to perfection. At the top sat a twisted piece of metal that had once been a loop placed in a long pale pointed ear.

Link stared some more, thumb smoothing over the facets of the stone as if unable to comprehend. A relic, that was what the earring was now. An artifact to be referenced in time when the story of the battle of Ghirahim and Demise was handed down to the next generation of adventurers.

“I’m not coming down there, you insufferable brat!” Link nearly dropped the diamond, startled by the demon’s shrill call from the top of the grounds. He looked up at the angry figure standing with arms crossed, scowling back with equal annoyance. He did need to get moving so he could settle in for the night and hopefully dodge Zelda’s never ending questions. Thankfully, Ghirahim had reluctantly agreed to keep his presence a secret but leaving on a quest during a time of colonization would still be hard to explain. He couldn’t very well say he was running off on vacation. Zelda would use his sword to cut him off at the knees.

Link made his way back up to the top, walking straight past the sword spirit. He could hear the man growl slightly but his footsteps followed behind. Just past the path to the center of the forest, voices could be heard mingling amongst the sounds of the forest. One of them was pitched higher than the rest - Zelda’s most likely- and giving commands. The hero took a deep breath before turning the corner and coming into view of what would soon be the first colony of Skyloft on the surface. He felt the whisper of a breeze pass by his face, gentle and kind as it ruffled his hair. Suddenly his cheek stung, leading him to reach up and run his fingers over the affected skin. Spots of blood, just enough to come from a paper cut, lingered on his fingers. Ghirahim had made his departure, then.

“Link! Over here!” The hero slapped on a smile, marching towards the group of people gathered around Zelda and the Kikwi elder. Against his hip, tucked away in an obscure inner pocket, was the blue diamond, awaiting its return to its former master.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Years Eve from the US! 
> 
> This chapter is 5,863 words, a whopping 2,597 words more than last chapter! I finally have the whole story worked out so hopefully updates will be more regular while I'm on break. So, in honor of the death of 2016 and my 21st birthday on Monday: a new chapter!
> 
> -Wren
> 
> Unbeta'd as usual. Any mistakes are mine.

“What happened to your face? Did you fall into a bush again?” Zelda fussed, running a cool finger over Link’s cheek where Ghirahim had cut him and swiping up the remaining blood. Link huffed with amusement. “Well, try not to get too hurt. We need your help down here! We’ve got to get these houses built before the weather changes and it’s taking forever to get them done. Your strength could really speed things up.” She pushed some of her white hair behind her ear and looked over at the men and women hauling logs to the small clearing they had chosen to build in.

“Oh ho ho ho, it’s a shame you do not have any feathers to keep you warm.” Link had forgotten that the great Kikwi elder was standing with them and he looked up at him now, the great bird still chuckling. His great mustache shook with his mirth as he stroked it. “We can help you to find materials. Us Kikwis use leaves and grass to disguise our homes from the scary creatures in the forest.” Link considered it, thinking of the insulating properties that could come from the leaves. He hadn’t seen the plans for the village yet, only what was already built and that consisted of about eight standing cabins. More than likely, they would have to camp outside for some time unless they could stack everything together within the next few hours. A smaller shack stood far off to the side, its thatched roof made from the leaves of the great tree and a small bed seen behind the fabric hanging over the entrance.

“I’ll see what I can do, I know a few areas that have materials to use. Elder, could we use some of the mushrooms in the center of the woods, they could be great for mixing with mortar to seal the cracks in the wood,” Link asked, rubbing his chin in thought. The cabins, though basic, made a good temporary settlement for those who had chosen to stay down here. The forest, when not flooded by an angry water dragon, was a forgiving environment that allowed for breezy homes as a comfortable starting point. It would be much better than simply lying in the grass or strapping yourself to a tree like he’d done in his numerous stays. The Kikwis were being gracious in their willingness to help these strange new people and for that, Link was immensely grateful to them so they should absolutely take advantage of what was offered.

The Skyloft people, Hylians as they’d come to call themselves, seemed to have taken to the new land though it was obvious they were nervous about the Kikwis considering they’d never seen a creature other than themselves. The kids of Skyloft were fascinated with climbing the tall deku trees and tossing the fruit down at each other only to run around shooting the seeds at the birds. Their innocence was refreshing compared to the darkness Link had once been swallowed up by here in these very woods.

Even now, he could feel the memory of that first trial in the silent realm creeping into his thoughts. It was unsettling, the thought of the guardians watching them silently, invisibly, on a different plane of existence and yet still present. It made his skin crawl despite the pleasant smile he wore in front of the others. “You see! This is exactly why we need you here. You know more than anybody how to survive in these conditions,” Zelda said, clapping her hands together in excitement. “I’ll bet that in a few weeks we’ll have a nice little settlement up and running.” She giggled and smiled up at the Kikwi elder who was once again stroking his mustache in agreement. Suddenly, the thrill of being useful faded and anxiety flooded his veins.

Zelda was determined to force Link into her worldview. In the eight months following the battle of Demise, she had pestered him into leaving his house and nagged him to rejoin society. He’d been incredibly angry at first, going so far as to verbally throw her out of his home.  _ How dare she, the one who used him, demand anything of him _ ? It was a dark time in which he’d spent his days locked in his home, bitter and sleepless from the nightmares that plagued him. Every night he would relive the battles with Ghirahim in which he’d been dealt near fatal blows or hear the echoes of Demise’s curse reverberating off the walls of his silent bedroom.

It was four months in that she began to bribe him with books and other artifacts. First, she’d brought him a writing set with blue ink made from the dust of time stones. It fluttered on the page as he wrote with the quill made from the birds that lived in Lanayru desert. He’d turned the gift down three times before she snuck into his house and left it on his desk with a note saying there would be grave consequences if he threw it away. Next she’d brought him a beautiful obsidian bird statue from Eldin, reflective and rich in its color. After that it had been books that she’d find along her travels and trades in the three provinces. Link had protested loudly, frustrated that she wouldn’t take no for an answer. He had no doubts that she would attempt to bargain to convince him to remain in Faron woods.

“I...won’t be staying long. I need to speak with Eldin as soon as possible about a...private issue. I’ll help as much as I can until I leave tomorrow. Just tell me where I need to be and I’ll get to work.” Link could see the moment that Zelda’s smile froze in place, the edges of her eyes tightening. It was expected. What wasn’t expected was her calm and collected response; she didn’t lecture or yell, in fact she was pleasant as ever.

“Of course, I understand. Hero’s business and all that,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “I think the knights need help with the load of logs they gathered. You go join them and we can talk later, after dinner tonight.” Her voice was sugary sweet, falsely innocent as she beamed at him. Rather than open that tightly shut can of worms, he simply nodded and began to back away as if turning his back might give her the opportunity to change her mind. Instead, Zelda turned back to the elder and began to speak cheerfully with him. At her side, her hand was clenched in a white knuckled fist.

It was something he wasn’t looking forward to but the confrontation had to happen. There was no way Zelda was going to let him leave without a stern lecture on his heroic obligation to the Hylian people. He  _ really _ hoped she didn’t cry. A crying Zelda was hard to turn down no matter how obvious the emotional manipulation was.

Shrugging off his outer layer and gear, Link stored them in the single roomed shack. The blade glowed red for a brief moment and Ghirahim’s eyes reflected back at him, narrowed with irritation. The hero steadfastly ignored the look as he took off the scabbard strap. It seemed he couldn’t please anyone today.

______________

Dinner was an absolute riot. It had been a long time, ages really, since a full-bellied laugh had escaped the hero’s lips. Pipit was sitting next to him in front of the bonfire; tears in his eyes as he howled with laughter over a joke one of the knights had delivered with a straight face. Friends...this was what he’d wanted so badly before the goddess quest had ripped him away. At the knight’s academy he’d been so liked despite his utterly boring personality. He’d always been willing to help and that had earned him the respect of the adults, especially Pipit’s mom who still paid him to help out around the house. It was standing up to Groose (on occasion) that got the respect of his peers. But none of that mattered now as he told a story about shooting a bokoblin in the ass with an arrow to the amusement of his comrades. Pipit gave him a friendly slap on the back, causing Link to inhale his drink and cough to clear his airway. His eyes watered but he ended up laughing anyway as the poor freckled boy fretted over hurting the legendary chosen one.

By the time everything wound down for the evening, there were only a few knights settled around the fire drinking something strong as they told tall tales. Karane was next to an affectionate intoxicated Pipit, helping him to sit up straight while the man crooned about his love for her. Link made his excuses and began to stumble off towards the bed he’d chosen for himself, still chuckling to himself over the story of the mating Loftwings interrupted. His fingers brushed the fabric of the entryway only to be snatched away. He was spun around like a windmill in a breeze, the fast movement made Link’s vision swim as he tried to focus on the furious face of Zelda, but her features kept shifting under the haze of the drinks. “Zelda…” he slurred.

“I see I’ve found you at a bad time,” she snapped, putting a hand on her hip and scowling. Link frowned but it probably came out more like a pout. “Why don’t we go inside?” Zelda grabbed him by the arm and frog marched him into the shack, controlling herself enough to gently push him down onto the bed. Her foot tapped impatiently against the dirt floor, kicking up a bit of dust where she stood. The hero tried to right himself but was listing to the side, wanting nothing more than to end this incredibly long day. “Link. Link! Pay attention.”

“I’m tired Zelda, let me sleep. Please,” he begged, looking longingly at the pillow next to his right hand.

“No. I want to know where you’ve decided you just  _ have _ to run off to. We need you here. You know more than anyone how to survive in the woods and yet you’re running off on some new adventure,” she accused, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “What could be so important that you would abandon your own people?”

The whole confrontation was sobering and Link’s mind was becoming clearer as the alcohol left his system and stress filtered in. He had been hoping the day’s work would smooth over his leaving but clearly that wasn’t the case. Zelda was tenacious; anything in her way was dealt with accordingly whether she got her way or not.

“Look, Zelda, I have to see Eldin. It’s about time I check in with the dragons anyway since I’ve been gone so long,” he explained, running a gloved hand over his face and cringing at the dirt it probably left behind. He’d have to take a bath in the river early tomorrow morning if he wanted any semblance of privacy. A huff came from the girl in front of him, clearly unimpressed with the vague explanation.

“This is a time of peace. Demise is gone as far as we know and  _ Lord _ Ghirahim is dead. So what could possibly be so -  _ look at me when I’m talking _ \- what could be so urgent that it can’t wait a few weeks?” Link didn’t answer and his eyes flickered over to the sword sitting innocently in the corner of the room. It shimmered briefly but otherwise appeared to be an inanimate object minding its own business. He looked back into the furious eyes in front of him and felt a bit guilty about hiding Ghirahim. Truly, she deserved to know the demon that had partially destroyed her life was only a few feet away. Just...what benefit could it possibly bring if he were to reveal that information right now? Honesty between friends? They’d never really relied on that. Closing the cognitive dissonance between hiding something and feeling bad? Well, he suffered from enough problems, what was one more for the benefit of the majority. “Well? Answer me!

“I need a sword,” he snapped, gritting his teeth and grinding them painfully. “I need a sword and I figure Eldin of all people will know where I can have one made.”

“A sword. You are leaving behind your people, the ones who desperately need leadership, to go get yourself a sword? Is this because of the nightmares? Eight months you spent locked up in that wooden cage you call a house and now that I’ve finally convinced you to join the living again you take off into the sunset!” Zelda ranted, her pale face flushing as she worked herself up into a frenzy.

Link said nothing, hanging his head and staring at his dirty boots. She was probably right. Of course it sounded selfish from her perspective. To her, he’d simply sulked in his house, only to immediately neglect his duties so he could chase after what amounted to a glorified toy. He sounded like a reckless ass. It wouldn’t seem so selfish if there wasn’t a deranged former demon sword currently hitching a ride in the training blade leaning against the rickety cabin wall. He couldn’t very well blurt that out so now he had to suffer the misplaced anger. Unfortunate.

His dark thoughts were interrupted when he felt a soft hand cup his face and he looked into the now soft, sad eyes of the beautiful girl kneeling in front of him. “Link, I’m worried for you.  _ Scared _ for you. We don’t talk anymore, not like we used to before the whole goddess quest. I have no idea what’s going on in that head of yours when you shut yourself away from the world,” she said, stroking a thumb over his cheek affectionately. “This village loves you - _ I  _ love you - and we just want to include you in the future you gave us. It could be bright...carefree…” she leaned in and bumped their noses. Link tensed and turned his face away before she could do anything they would both regret.

Zelda sat back, an unhappy sigh leaving her pink lips. “Zelda...I… I’m sorry but I have to go. I need purpose in my life and that begins with a new sword to replace what I’ve lost. I swear to you I  _ will _ come back. I  _ will _ be here to build homes and train knights but I have to do this first. I’m sorry.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Zelda stood up and brushed the dirt off her dress, the firelight from outside silhouetting her against the door. “Okay, if this is what you need then I won’t stop you. I doubt that I could anyway. Just promise me you’ll come home safe and in one piece.” Link nodded, unsure how well he could really keep that promise to her. “Good,” she said, sucking in a shaky breath before composing her features. She really fit the image of graceful leader. “I think Groose needs me so goodnight.” She was out the door before Link could say anything more, her dress leaving a breeze in its wake. The hero once again scrubbed at his face with a dirty hand, sighing. He kicked off his shoes and socks, too tired from the day’s hard labor and hard conversations to do more than lay back.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would be on his way to accomplish his goal and he would feel alive.

____________

Darkness settled over the new village like a fog, seeping in between the cracks of wood and making its home within the lungs of the forest’s inhabitants. The sky was clear; the clouds were off to another land for the evening, giving over the dark stage to the stars. Far above they watched over the lives resting below. Those same stars reflected off the blade held precariously above the throat of the goddess’ warrior, unaware in his deep intoxicated sleep of the threat to his life. Ghirahim, former demon lord, stood still and silent as he observed the slumbering young man who’d stolen his glory and sense of purpose.

Now his future was muddy, impossible to discern from what it once was. With Demise, he’d had one goal in mind: become the king’s sword so he could serve by his side. What now? Does he stay with the sky child who could, at any moment, destroy all the self-worth he had left? If he killed the blonde, he’d be hunted until the end of his nearly immortal life but he’d once again be his own person. All he’d needed was someone to bind him to a new vessel. The blade itself was a sorry excuse for a weapon but he could simply have a new one forged in the demon realm once he was free to make his own decisions. Just...one well aimed slash.

Yet he hesitated.

His hand, white knuckled around the grip of his new vessel, held the sword’s tip against the soft tan skin of the young man below. Deep breaths slipped past those cupid’s bow lips, accompanied by little soft snorts only heard when in the deepest of sleeps. The demon’s hand shook and his dark eyes narrowed at the boy so blissfully unaware of impending death. Ghirahim raised the blade, just barely quivering in anticipation.

He froze.

Outside the door was someone or  _ something _ dark. Something from the shadows that should remain there, never to touch the light. The sword was pulled away from the throat of his master and placed gently where it had belonged. Moments later, Ghirahim perched on the roof of the shack with his eyes scanning the ground for the force he’d sensed. It hadn’t been particularly strong, just out of place. Demise’s forces had simply been low-level demons; easy to subjugate and disposable made the best armies. This creature, whatever it was, had enough dark life force to have a mind of its own and mind of its own is a dangerous thing.

From the edges of the darkness slunk a dog like beast. Ghirahim narrowed his eyes, his breath stilling as he followed the creature on its path to the nearest cabin. Its long muzzle was wolf like in nature but jagged, as if it had lost much of its flesh in previous battles. Though it appeared to be covered in inky dark feathers that spread across its body like ivy on a stone wall giving it the appearance of a walking mutilated bird carcass. Piercing orange eyes shone like embers in the night as it ambled close to the doorway. The demon lord cocked his head, clicking his fingers quietly; four tiny blades popped into existence. Pulling back his arm soundlessly, he prepared to throw a blade with infallible accuracy. Muscles tensed, he waited once again.

The dog paused, listening with pointed ears rotating like tiny radars. Ghirahim waited for the thing to continue on its way but it nosed its way into the doorway. He couldn’t quite see what it was doing though it appeared to be sniffing around for something. No others were forthcoming from the shadows; it was acting alone. The dog raised one paw; claws, long and wicked, scratched the wooden doorframe until it left a sizable discoloration.

So it was marking its target. It would come back then. Blade readied, he used his energy to propel it through the dark and straight into the flanks of the shadow beast. It yelped, immediately taking off into the trees like a bat out of hell. Minutes passed by. When nothing stirred, the demon lord teleported himself to the doorway of the cabin. He crouched, wrinkling his nose in distaste when he got his white boots covered in dirt. Gloved fingers ran over the mark; it appeared to have no significant meaning beyond indicating a place to revisit.

The cabin’s door, a blue fabric that hung heavily over the entrance, fluttered in front of the demon. He was startled when it moved aside and he looked into bright brown eyes, twinkling in the moonlight overhead. A little girl, a miniature version of Link with dark brown hair puffed up on top of her head, stared back at him with her tiny fist clenched in the blue wool. Little mouth pulled into a toothy grin; she waved at him with enthusiasm.

Ghirahim didn’t move, unsure what he should do in this unfathomable situation. He’d expected her to scream, to fear his exotic looks or be awed by his demonic aura. In the demon realm, children were not seen let alone standing around interacting with those more powerful. And yet she reached a hand out with a giggle to pat his platinum hair like he was some family pet in need of cuddles.

Her bravery, or perhaps naive stupidity, was astounding. She was hardly more than a babe, practically right out of her mother’s womb. One good push and her barely developed bones would fracture. Honestly, these delicate creatures had no sense of self-preservation in the face of those who could crush their precious, vulnerable bodies into dust. Be it charging into battle with what amounted to a toothpick like the sky child or giving a gap toothed grin to vicious sword spirits, they simply had no awareness of how utterly  _ fragile _ their lives were. So easy to snuff out before they even reached adulthood.

He stuck his tongue out as he once did when meeting Link, rumbling out a menacing growl from deep in his chest but the brat only giggled louder. “You’re pretty! Your hair looks like it’s made from moonlight and it’s so shiny! Are you from the moon? Is that why you’re wearing so much white? Or are you a star? That would explain all the diamonds cause the stars look like diamonds in the sky. I bet you can grant wishes or glow. Oh! Did you see the doggie too? He was so big and cool looking but I think he needed a bath. He was probably hungry. ”

“Little brat, you’re going to get yourself killed. You shouldn’t play with creatures of the night,” he said, his dark eyes narrowing at her. The little girl’s smile drooped for a split second before returning twice as bright. Did nothing scare this little one? Did her parents know of her propensity to speak to those who could and would willingly steal her life?

“That’s what Batreaux used to say but he wasn’t scary at all. I hung out with him all the time at night and I could scream all I want. He taught me how to sneak around and scare people. It was so much fun! I bet you’re not all that scary either. You can’t be pretty  _ and _ scary. So you must be good and I like good people,” she reasoned, nodding along to her own child logic. Ghirahim simply stared, unable to form words. He hadn’t the faintest idea what she was speaking about or who this “Batreaux” was though the name was perhaps distantly familiar. Though how could he be certain of anything with this bizarre situation playing out right in front of him.

“Kukiel? Who're you talking to?” The little girl turned to look back into the cabin before she returned her gaze to the demon crouched at her doorway. She leaned forward into his space, cupping her hands around her mouth.

“That’s my mom,” she whispered, looking over her shoulder. “I have to go now. Can you come play tomorrow night?” She didn’t wait for an answer, simply running into the cabin and leaving the bewildered man behind. He sat there in deep thought, glancing back out towards the shadowed treeline.

A snap of the fingers later and he was back in the little shack, the hero none the wiser as he snoozed on. White gloved hands reached yet again for the blade, bringing it up to the demon’s face to reflect those pitch colored eyes. Those same dark eyes traced over the peaceful features of the man in front of him, zeroing in on the single globule of blood that had welled up from a nick in the skin of his Adam’s apple.

Restoring the sword to its scabbard, the demon returned to the bedside and knelt down. Something in him couldn’t kill the sky child. Or should he say man? After all, Link was no longer the round child he’d stalked through temples and deserts. His features weren’t as boyish, starting the slow process of becoming more defined with age though no less handsome. It made sense that the goddess chose such a cherubic boy as her hero so many months ago. Obviously, it had been to set the boy up to have stunning children with the annoying girl chosen to play the role of Hylia embodied, though from their earlier interaction that plan seemed to have derailed. Now, Link was losing that baby face and maturing, perhaps too fast for his own good.

White lips pulled up into smirk. It was reasonable to assume he was to blame for forcing the boy into this life, thrusting him into the role of savior before he’d had the chance to experience adolescence. Not many could attest to surviving so many near death injuries before they reached true adulthood. On the other hand, this had been fated far before he’d been swept up in Demise’s plans. It had been divined since the time of the golden goddesses breathing life into existence. So in all fairness, it was their fault and he’d only been a pawn in a game far above his pay grade. That thought left a sour taste in his mouth as he watched the blood ooze from the tiny cut.

Removing one glove, he reached out with a bare thumb to swipe the red drop away from the warm skin of the very much alive creature in front of him. The muscles of Link’s throat constricted, tickled by the touch on his neck, but relaxed once again as his breathing regulated. Even after the battles he’d waged, Link was still vulnerable as any other. Just like the little one,  _ Kukiel _ , he could be killed so easily. By accidental injury or even disease. No matter the training done or the measures taken, his life could be ripped away at any given moment. Did it ever really belong to him?

Ghirahim pulled his hand back to observe the smear of metallic blood, finding himself dissatisfied by the damage he had unknowingly caused. The lack of awareness took the thrill out of killing the hero. Yes, that was why he couldn’t go through with it. The demon lord had always been cruel and malicious, taken pride in the harm he inflicted, but never did he kill in cold blood. No, Link would live to see the morning and perhaps many more.

Disturbed, the sword spirit returned to his vessel without another sound.

__________

“Link! Link, wake up!” The blonde blinked his eyes groggily, trying desperately to find the source of the screeching that’d jerked him from his much needed rest. Vision was still unavailable to him as he tried to calm the headache he was rapidly developing. “Link, this isn’t the time for you to fall back asleep. Kukiel’s missing.” It was Zelda, her shrill voice coming from the doorway where she threw the fabric aside. If the early morning light from the window wasn’t enough to kill him, the sudden flood of it from the doorway made him pray for lady death to take him immediately.

Once he was able to do more than simply squint at the frantic woman in front of him the words she had spat out in sunk into the level of his brain that processed speech. Kukiel, the fearless little girl who played with monsters... gone. Guilt settled in his bones as he quickly pulled on his boots and gear, paying no mind to the sword he slung over his shoulder like a sack of garbage. It’s  _ his _ job to keep these people safe! This was just another example of why letting go is never,  _ ever _ an option for him. The very second he relaxes, something is taken away and this time he didn’t have his naivety to fall back on. He should know better. He  _ does  _ know better and yet there is a helpless little girl wandering around the woods because of his lapse in judgment.

Outside the cabin, Zelda pulled him over to the large group of villagers arguing in the center of the encampment. Kukiel’s mother, hand stroking her pregnant belly, sobbed quietly into her husband’s shoulder while the man attempted to hold back his own sorrow. The hero approached them carefully, gauging the reactions of the others. Groose looked disappointed in himself, his hands buried in his red pompadour. The others watched with wide uncertain eyes.

“Oh Link, you have to help us!” Kukiel’s mother said, wiping her tears away and sniffling a little bit. “Kukiel, she’s vanished. I woke up this morning and...and...Oh it’s just so horrible,” she broke off into tears. Her husband, Jakamar, hugged her closer.

“We thought maybe she’d gone out t-to play or something but the wood by our door’s all scratched up. That and...There’s a trail of, well, I thought it might be blood but it’s black. Like some kinda pitch that’s been spilled. We just don’t know the area well enough,” Jakamar explained, rubbing his wife’s back. “You just gotta help us.”

“Of course. I’ll search immediately,” Link placated, pulling on his gloves that had been hanging from one of the pouches around the waist. “Get a search group together. Pipit, you lead them through the larger areas while I look in any places she could be hiding. I just need to examine the...blood. So I can see where it goes or if that’s what it is.” The distraught parents led him over to their residence, staying only long enough to show him the damage before rejoining the others. Pipit, loyal to a fault, rounded up a few of the knights and began to delegate.

Link crouched, skimming two gloved fingers over the wooden mark. Something about the motion sent a strange feeling up his arm, ending in a shiver that raised bumps on his skin. Whatever was here last night was sinister and had a decent amount of power to it; not a good sign. On the ground were large puddles of black ichor, giving off the slightest bit of steam where they touched the sparse grass. Taking a nearby twig, he dropped it in the unusual liquid and quickly pulled his hand back.  Seconds later it, nothing was left but the smell of rot and burnt wood.

Not blood then.

In some ways, that was a relief. It meant that Kukiel, wherever she’d gone, was probably uninjured. There was still the chance that she’d been taken by whatever was out there licking its wounds, however, so he needed to get a plan together quick. Link began to stand, only to see a very familiar throwing knife embedded in the ground inches from the splintered doorway. With restrained anger, he unsheathed it from the dirt and wiped away the acid that mysteriously hadn’t eaten away the metal.

Of course Ghirahim had been involved. Who else would sneak around in the middle of the night but a demon? The evil bastard must’ve known it would cause dissent among the villagers, which in turn vilified Link for being irresponsible. He could feel their questioning gazes on his back. By now they must realize that this was his fault. He’s the hero, which means he keeps everyone safe, no matter the cost to himself. Who could they rely on now? He’d failed them and it cost  _ a life _ . He should have known better than to trust that  _ evil, vindictive, selfish son of a b- _

No. No, this didn’t make any sense. If Ghirahim was behind this, what sense would there be in injuring  _ himself _ ? And wouldn’t he have known? He  _ is _ the demon’s master now and though they weren’t bonded the same way he’d been with Fi, Link could still sense the other’s presence within the blade on his back. Right now there was nothing through their tentative connection, but it didn’t mean the man had taken off to commit atrocities.

But...that could only mean that the man had acted without self interest which was improbable. The evidence certainly led to that conclusion. There was no real reason to fight off a creature that probably hadn’t attacked; surely somebody would’ve heard the struggle during the quiet hours of the night if one had occurred. It wasn’t as if there was any love for the villagers. So then...it was unexplainable unless he called forth the demon to hear the reason straight from the lips of the devil himself.

“Link.” He whipped his head around, locking gazes with the terrified blue eyes of Zelda. Those eyes flickered to the blade in his hand, regarding it as if he had picked up a severed limb. “Link. That’s. Where did-? He’s dead.” He swallowed thickly, fist clenching around the knife until it began to press into the leather swaddling his palm. “Ghirahim’s dead and you killed him so why are you holding his knife?” Link said nothing as he stood, hiding his eyes beneath the shadow of his bangs. “He’s…”

“Do you ever shut your irritating mouth?” Link inhaled sharply, praying for sudden death once again to escape what was sure to be a horrible situation. There was a split second of silence before chaos erupted amongst the people. The knights were immediately on guard with their swords held aloft, unsure who to listen to. Groose’s eyes were bugged out so badly they appeared to be separated from his head but he too had a large hammer hefted up to throw with what was probably deadly accuracy. Ghirahim, unruffled as usual, stood behind the hero with his arms crossed disapprovingly. Zelda’s, her beautiful face gone white as her hair, had a dagger out and ready to use within seconds. A fierce snarl twisted her face into something unpleasant.

“What are you doing? Use your sword!” she shouted, eyes never leaving the man who’d started her life on the terrifying path it was still on today. Link didn’t move, unsure what he should do in this circumstance. It didn’t matter of course. In his usual fashion, Ghirahim threw his arms out with flair.

“Oh, you simple girl, I thought you were smarter than this. What that foolish Hylia was thinking when she chose such a child, I shall never understand,” he chuckled, his white painted lips curling up into a grin. Cool hands curled sensually around Link’s shoulders and the blonde cringed, reliving the memories of his very first meeting with the wicked creature. “Don’t you see, Zelda?” The girl gritted her teeth when her name rolled off that long silver tongue.

“Your precious Link is my new master.”

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thanks for sticking with me even though I am utterly inconsistent in updating...
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented and left kudos. It's really encouraging and I appreciate it a lot!
> 
> I had a bit of trouble with this chapter but hopefully y'all like it.
> 
> -Wren
> 
> *I added an actual quote from the game. I don't own that one line of dialogue or any of the characters.
> 
> As always this chapter is unbeta'd and all mistakes are mine.

“How could you? He tried to kill us! Multiple times,” Zelda shouted, slamming a hand onto the desk in front of her. After Ghirahim had so  _ eloquently _ revealed himself, Link had stepped in between the knights and the demon despite his better judgement, suggesting they move indoors to let him explain away from prying eyes. Zelda had yet to look at him with anything other than disgust and betrayal in her now twisted expression, a look undoubtedly mirrored on the shocked faces of the citizens left standing outside. 

 

Groose was up against the door with his arms crossed loosely though his muscles tensed every few moments as if he were ready to leap into battle the second things got ugly, always ready to play the hero. Link felt a smidge of guilt at that last thought, Groose had really redefined himself, but now wasn’t the time to reflect. 

 

The others were scattered across the room, staring warily at Ghirahim whom had perched himself upon the windowsill behind the hero, looking on at the drama he’d caused with a satisfied smirk. Despite his unsavory presence, he seemed to be minimizing himself; presenting himself in the least threatening way he could by keeping his limbs to himself.  

 

“Look, I made a decision. Maybe I should’ve said something yesterday but I didn’t have everything worked out. I just need you to trust my judgement,” Link stated, voice strained. He just hadn’t thought this through completely. If he’d been more careful or acknowledged Ghirahim’s propensity for causing chaos sooner, he could’ve prevented this whole mess. 

 

And now, Kukiel’s situation was even worse because they were wasting valuable time arguing over something that was already done. 

 

“I do trust you. I trust you with my life and you proved that I made a good decision. So what I don’t quite  _ understand _ is why I should trust  _ him _ ,” Zelda spat, sneering at the monster in the window. Ghirahim looked back at her with his sickly sweet smile, mocking. 

 

“Zelda, hold on,” Pipit spoke up from his place at a makeshift kitchen table. The whole room turned to look at him expectantly. His freckled face was tense but his eyes open, non-judgemental. “Some of us,” he began, waving his hand around the room at the himself and the other two occupants not involved in the goddess quest:  Master Horwell, who’d agreed to sit in, and Karane whom was here at the request of Pipit.  “Aren’t up to date on what happened between all of you. We don’t even know this guy’s name. I think Link should at least be allowed to explain what happened and where’s he’s going with all this.” Zelda continued to glare. “Zelda, c’mon.”

 

Though it appeared incredibly reluctant, Zelda acquiesced and shut her mouth. Her heels kicked back against the wood of the desk in frustration like a toddler left in time out after saying something nasty. All eyes were then on Link as he searched for the right words to explain just how the hell he was going to justify this situation. “I..well, okay…. This is Ghirahim,” the blonde began cautiously, angling his body to put the demon in clear view. He tried hard to appear calm but the demon’s presence still put him on edge. Shudders rippled through his body as he caught those menacing dark eyes with his own blue ones.

 

* “As I have told you before, silly sky child,  _ I much prefer to be indulged with my full title: Lord Ghirahim _ ,” an irritated voice snapped. Link rolled his eyes, exasperation not beginning to cover it.

 

“ _ Lord  _ Ghirahim. He’s the demon responsible for kidnapping Zelda, setting into motion the goddess Hylia’s quest, and ultimately unleashing Demise, the demon king, upon our world.” Here, a snort could be heard. Link struggled to go on, unsure how much to reveal, where to even begin. “There’s just...it’s a long story I can’t get into right now but I defeated Demise and supposedly Lord Ghirahim as well but,” he looked away, towards the window, as if it would give him strength.  “He’s a sword spirit that can be bound to a blade and therefore used as a weapon. Two nights ago, he appeared to me right before the fire at the goddess statue and... asked for my help,” Link admitted, not meeting Zelda or Groose’s eyes.

 

“I most certainly didn’t ask for your  _ help _ . We struck a mutual deal,” Ghirahim snapped, crossing his arms. “As if I’d lower myself that way.”

 

“Fine,  _ we struck a deal _ . If I could provide a sword and a purpose for him,  _ Lord  _ Ghirahim would agree to be under my watch and command, therefore, he cannot cause havoc or somehow raise Demise again to doom us all to a torturous death by evil monsters.”

 

“So this was really a way of helping the world?” Master Horwell asked, finally breaking his silence. “That’s quite the sacrifice, Link. He’s your charge and any evil he does reflects on your ability to maintain your hold on his will. Already your association and Zelda’s reaction has caused unrest. Are you sure that is what you wish to do? Are you willing to put him before yourself after everything in your shared past?” 

 

It was a legitimate concern. Any blood on Ghirahim’s hands, from this point on, was synonymous  with being a murderer himself. Every acrid insult, every forest creature used as target practice, every villager frightened was ultimately Link’s fault for simply introducing Ghirahim as a variable. The hero took a deep steadying breath, finally chancing a glance at the faces of those that looked to him for guidance.

 

“I am willing to do what I have to. I wouldn’t put this on anyone else and I’m probably the only person who can tolerate Ghirahim’s  _ eccentric _ personality.” It was probably true. As forgiving and accepting as the Skyloft people - _ Hylians _ , he had to remember that- could be, he highly doubted they would put aside their reservations to assist a monster. Zelda herself, despite her tendency to forgive, would probably have turned away should the man have come to her. He was a sadistic, kidnapping, life ruining bastard, after all.

 

“That noble and whatever but we all know you’re the self-sacrificing fool. Why does  _ he _ want this?” Groose asked, pushing away from the doorframe to approach the demon. This creature, this embodiment of evil, had taken Zelda away from them all and yet here he sat with his flamboyant outfit and mocking expression of superiority. He was nearly nose to nose with the man as he asked, “What does a freak like you get out of this? Eight months ago you would’ve put a sword through Link’s heart and personally worn it as a necklace before you agreed to be his slave.” Groose said, looking into those dark eyes and seeing his own reflection glaring back.

 

“I am no one’s  _ slave _ , you poorly dressed brute,” Ghira said calmly, smile still in place though dark cracks begin to bleed into his pale skin. “Link is, at this current moment, my master. It is no secret that I attempted to kill not just him but your goddess as well. We have an understanding that while I follow Link’s orders, I could steal his last breath with the very snap of my fingers.” Not once did he blink, holding Groose captive with his eyes until they were a hairsbreadth apart. “I have no such obligation towards you  _ or _ your people.” Groose’s jaw locked with indignation.

 

“Stop. You’re not helping,” Link said firmly. “Groose, get out of his face.”  The spell was broken when Ghirahim chuckled, looking away from the befuddled Groose. “I don’t have the blade needed to seal him under my command. That’s why I need to see Eldin.” The last sentence had been directed at Zelda but she refused to acknowledge him.

 

“I find it so entertaining that you and your people are more focused on an innocuous demon like me when one of your young has been taken,” the sword spirit commented lazily as he brushed gloved fingers through his silky white hair. “And here I thought you preached unconditional love and pure unbreakable loyalty; honestly I’m surprised by how fickle your kind are.”

 

“He’s kind of right,” Pipit agreed before anyone could start another argument. “Kukiel needs us right now and we’re arguing over what’s already in the past. We don’t have time for this. We need a plan of action as soon as possible.”

 

“Link, you should go to Eldin Volcano. There’s no point in having you look for Kukiel when you’re essentially weaponless,” Karane suggested, assessing each person in the room. “We don’t really have any leads beyond a trail of black goo so we should split up. Pip and I could speak to the people in the forest and off to the West. If we haven’t found her by then, we can all meet up at Eldin Volcano in four days to discuss where to go from there.”

 

“If we do that, I go with Link,” Zelda asserted, her voice thin but certain. Link’s shoulders tensed as he immediately started coming up with reasons why that would be an utterly terrible idea that should be avoided at all costs.

 

“No,” Groose said quietly. “Zelda, you can’t go. You’re needed here. If you go now, people will be scared to stay on the surface. You keep them calm and in control just like a leader’s supposed to. Don’t abandon them over this,” he implored, displaying a maturity Link hadn’t seen from the man. He wasn’t sure this was a change for the better but it seemed to work. Zelda stared at Groose sternly before she softened, shoulders slumping in defeat.

 

“You’re right, Groose. I can’t afford to lose the trust of the people in such a vulnerable time,” she admitted, looking away as she thought about her next move, missing the relieved slump of Link’s shoulders. “But, I need something first,” she said, hopping off the desk and walking around it to grab Link by the arm harshly. Marching over to the demon, she stood the two men in front of each other. “ _ Lord Ghirahim _ ,” she addressed sourly. “You must swear your loyalty to Link, hero of the goddess Hylia, savior of the sky, and the people of Skyloft or I cannot allow this to go on and I will have you imprisoned.” Her words were sharp, tone implying that she was invoking her authority as both goddess vessel and leader of her people. “Don’t think I can’t find a way to subjugate you.”

 

For a moment, nothing moved. Ghirahim looked on in thoughtfulness at the woman in front of him as she waited patiently for his reaction, her fingers twitching as if she’d love nothing more than for him to reject her order. Being imprisoned by this slip of a girl was far-fetched at best, what prison could possibly hold him, but it seemed in his best interest to appear cooperative should he make it out of here without a fight. This wasn’t an official swearing of fealty, at least, not to him... In order to truly swear his word, he would need to initiate it and do a demon’s ritual of sharing his lifeforce. At most, he could give his word and they would have to rely on him keeping it. Who was he to point out the foolishness of trusting a demon lord? 

 

Only the goddess’ chosen one was any real threat, he mused, sliding his dark eyes to the boy. Ghirahim could practically taste the acrid stench of bitterness pouring off him. He highly doubted Link would trust an oath of loyalty let alone one from his ‘former nemesis’. These people asked so much of their young, it was no wonder the boy was unhappy with his situation. 

 

Perhaps that could be used to his benefit. If he could sway the hero to his side, all might not be lost on the side of darkness. Demise had been King, yes, but Link could be a formidable replacement. If he could just tap into the cruel nature held within each human, pull on the threads of the boy’s conscience until the edges frayed…

 

The pale demon uncurled himself from his perch gracefully, kneeling on long legs before Link as a knight would upon giving his devotion to a King. Wrapping a hand around Link’s wrist he stared up into the blue eyes he’d once found infuriating. They appeared surprised and perhaps a little uncertain, the blue darkening to something stormier as they peered back inquisitively. Rough calloused fingers curled mimicked the gesture . “Link, hero of Skyloft, saviour of the realm, brave and foolish child of the sky, I give my allegiance to you _and_ _only you_. I will remain by your side as your weapon until our deal is fulfilled in whole unless death comes to steal your last breath. Until then, I am your sword, your subordinate, and your _companion_.” 

 

The words  _ sounded _ heartfelt and Link was taken aback by the whole exchange, more than a little uncomfortable with the whole concept. He was unsure what to say in response though he had some thoughts on the idea of having a subordinate, ones he would privately dispute with Ghirahim later. Right now, he simply accepted the promise and used their connected hands to pull his “companion” to his feet before letting the same hand fall to his side. “Thank you. I accept your fealty.” He turned to Zelda who, while still clearly angry, seemed satisfied with the swearing despite the fact that Ghirahim had left out the part about the other villagers. “I’ll start planning as soon as I speak with Faron. Her people may have seen Kukiel around the forest,” Link said, rubbing the bridge of his nose as a headache began to form behind his eyes. “Pipit, Karane, regroup here in an hour, okay?” The two other knights nodded, taking their leave with a thoughtful Master Horwell trailing behind. The older man paused briefly at the door.

 

“Lord Ghirahim,” he called, waiting for the other man to acknowledge him. “Welcome to our village. It is small and we are a peaceful people. I hope that you will join us and if that is too much, than I at least ask you to understand why we are the way we are,” he said, nodding once to himself before pushing past the fabric hanging over the door. The white haired man said nothing, expression unreadable as he watched the older Hylian walk out.

 

Groose and Zelda were the last to take their leave, the young woman making it clear she was giving Link the cold shoulder as she wordlessly exited. Groose stepped up to the duo, his hair bouncing as he looked between them. “Zelda doesn’t approve of this... _ partnership _ but if this gets Kukiel back and keeps  _ you _ ,” he pointed a finger at Ghira’s chest menacingly, “from destroying all that’s good in life, than I have no problem with it.” Link’s eyes narrowed as he recalled the many times Groose had belittled him. Any idea Link had as a child was something Groose had to “approve of”, even when it had nothing to do with him whatsoever. Seems they hadn’t changed all that much.

 

“Thank you so much for your blessing. I’ll take that to heart.” Behind him, Ghirahim snorted with amusement at the less than enthusiastic response. It seemed, at the very least, their humor overlapped in some areas which was as disturbing as it was reassuring. Groose wasn’t pleased, as could be seen in his sulky expression, but he left anyway, his stiff red hair catching on the wooden doorframe. Now, left alone, Link turned to his “subordinate”. “We need to clear something up right now.”

 

Oh dear, are you going to demand I call you master? Should I not speak unless asked a direct question?” Ghirahim asked, smirk growing cruel as he taunted Link. “I  _ apologize _ if I  _ undermined _ you in any way,  _ Master Link _ .” 

 

“Stop that. I don’t want you to call me master or anything weird. You’re not my underling. You’re a huma- well, you’re not a human being but you deserve basic kindness,” Link reasoned. It was bizarre to think that he would treat anyone like they were less than. Even someone who was morally destitute deserved to be treated with kindness. More cruel treatment would only lead to worse behavior. Or at least, that was his reasoning at the moment. Some people were irredeemable, like Demise but Ghirahim, despite his continuous plot to raise his master, had spared Link time and again. 

 

“You…” the other began, looking unsettled and a little angry. “I have to follow your commands, regardless of your well intentions,” he argued though it his voice wavered.

 

“It doesn’t sit well with me to force you to do anything. I never gave Fi commands when she was bound to me. You are your own person no matter how unpleasant.” He paused, giving the other man a pointed look. “And I am not Demise.” The sword spirit seemed utterly thrown, unable to fathom how this child could simply dismiss the power given to him. Here he was, presented with the chance to seek revenge on the creature that had destroyed all normalcy in his life and he turned it down. What was he to do with this? 

 

“Well, we better get a move on. Faron is temperamental on a good day and you can’t be seen. I don’t think we could handle another forest wide flood,” Link said, mostly to himself as he tightened the straps on his arm guards and walking out the door, muttering about musical notes.

 

Suddenly, the lord’s thoughts of killing the sky child from the night before seemed baseless. However would he appeal to the darkness in such a pure heart? It’s just  _ sickening _ .

 

_____________

 

Faron was no less fussy than usual as she peered down at the green garbed knight, her tail curling and uncurling she she watched him. “I see you’ve survived the quest of the Goddess, Link,” she began, twisting her long neck to peer at his back. “Yet you no longer carry the fancy sword of legends. Truly, your time of rest is upon you,” she remarked rather snarkily, her whiskers twitching. “Ah, your precious one has come to me many times in recent months to ask my advice on moving your people here.” Link frowned but didn’t correct her about Zelda, instead he readied himself to ask for information. Faron was typically cooperative though often she found being asked for anything an annoyance. The dragon paused in her assessment of him and quirked a non existent brow. “What is it, boy? You look ready to fall on your sword. Spit it out,” she commanded.

 

“I need information,” he said, tensing as he awaited her response. When she did nothing but stare, he continued. “A member of our community has gone missing. A little girl named Kukiel. Last night she was...taken from her home here in the woods. All that was left behind were puddles of black acid that I don’t know the origin of. I wanted to ask if any of your residents had seen her.”

 

The great blue dragon rubbed her chin thoughtfully, the sapphire scales upon her chest shimmering distractingly like a waterfall. “I can’t say that any of them have reported a disturbance. I did sense something wicked in the forest in the early hours but it was gone no sooner than it had arrived. I assumed it had been a stray bokoblin or perhaps whatever it was had been killed,” she said, putting her hands back into her sleeves as usual. “You have done me a great favor in preventing the darkness from taking over this land. For that, I will help you and ask those under my rule to gather what information they can. Now, is that all you need?”

 

“I am also looking for someone to forge me a sword. I ask your advice. Do you know of anyone who could help in that matter? I am left with an inferior blade and though it works to cut trees, I don’t think it will be effective when bringing down enemies,” he said, gesturing to the blade at his back. There was a sting on his shoulder under his clothes that caused him to wince, no doubt it was another tiny cut signifying Ghirahim’s offense at such an implication. The dragon herself chuckled heartily and covered her mouth. 

 

“Of course, young one. I imagine you do not have anyone to help you with such a predicament. Your former sword was forged far before you entered this life,” she remarked, swaying in place. Link rubbed his neck in embarrassment. “Well, I know of a blacksmith though whether he is still working is uncertain. If you travel northwest, past Eldin’s Volcano, you will come upon a land ruled by the people called Krai. There, you will seek out a man named Torl. As far as I can remember, and I remember much, he is someone who makes renowned weapons,” she explained, looking far away in her thoughts. She then focused on Link once again, eyeing the blade already on his back. “I hope that this helps you in your endeavor.” 

 

“Thank you, your majesty. I will follow your advice,” he replied, nodding at her and turning to leave. He had made it to the water’s edge when the great dragon’s voice rang out once more.

 

“One more bit of advice, young hero,” she said, eyes boring holes into his back. “Keep that demon you have strapped to your back under control. If he unleashes anything into my forest again, I will not hesitate to flood it without any warning. I will not tolerate evil running about freely,” she threatened. Link didn’t turn but nodded his agreement before diving into the deep pool in front of him.

 

_______________

 

The meeting with Pipit and Karane went as well as it could have. They were going to depart the day after next on their way to Lanayru desert. If any news came from Faron, it would be relayed to them as Link would be leaving first thing in the morning for Eldin Volcano. He was still determined to speak with the flame dragon, if only to gauge a safe path to the land beyond. Zelda had decided not to attend the situation meeting, sending Groose as her placeholder while she instructed the other residents in building new facilities. 

 

Now, all he was required to do was take a bath and sleep. Or at least, that was what he was told when Pipit had attempted to give him a pep talk. Instead he was sat on his bed, agonizing over the day’s events. He had just managed to venture out of the safety of his home and already everything was shot to hell; he’d gone to to leap off Skyloft but ended up tripping over his untied boots and tumbling over the edge instead. Without the sail cloth or the ability to whistle.

 

Zelda was beyond furious at him. Never had she ignored his request to speak, especially after last night’s guilt trip. She probably thought this was the exact reason he’d been so out of it for months. After this omission, he wondered if she thought he’d been harbouring the demon since day one. It was the ultimate betrayal of her trust, choosing Ghirahim over her. He really hadn’t meant to light the situation that way, he cared about her more than anything, but this was out of his control. a

 

He couldn’t lose her. He may not be romantically interested in her, maybe he hadn’t forgiven her for using him, but she was still his closest friend. Not having her support is devastating. They’d always been partners in crime and yet now, she was pulling away from their close bond.

 

Once again he wondered if this had all been a terrible idea. Well, he wasn’t wondering. He’s certain it’s a terrible idea. He should’ve turned the demon down, maybe even killed him as a mercy. Hard to do, but better than putting those he cared for in danger. Now it was too late to even think of dispatching the man. He could never kill in cold blood, especially someone he felt was even the smallest bit redeemable by human standards. 

 

“I wasn’t aware you could think so hard.” Link looked up through his lashes. He hadn’t really noticed the raggedness of the man’s outfit, the white fabric torn in place and revealing even more skin than before. Without thinking, he reached forward to run his fingertips over a rip in the gold belt around Ghirahim’s waist. He was shocked out of his thoughts when he felt warmth, the muscles of the other’s stomach twitching from the touch. Dropping his hand he looked up into the calculating eyes above. “I see you’ve noticed the state of my clothing. Yet another symbol of my weakness,” he said coldly. Link said nothing, simply hanging his head once more in an effort to ignore the irritating man. 

 

Unexpectedly, he felt the ugly, shameful touch of pity. Demise surely hadn’t been a generous master. In the end, he’d practically crucified deranged Ghirahim in the process of the sword transformation. The idea that Demise would afford his weapon care, in any form, was laughable. Things like clothes, food, rest; had basic needs been considered at all? Cuts, torn gloves, head injuries… Had the demon just dealt on his own?

 

It wasn’t out of any affection but he could try to be more considerate, he supposed. It wasn’t in Link’s nature to be cruel, no matter whom it was or how much others may feel they deserve it. “I wouldn’t call it weakness. We’ll have to find you new clothes to wear. I can’t show up to villages with a naked demon floating behind me like some kind of exhibitionist reaper,” Link said, rubbing his temples. 

 

“You owe me nothing and I don’t want your pity,” Ghirahim stated, voice icy still. “Besides, they don’t deserve to see such a perfect specimen in natural form.” Link sighed and flopped back onto the bed, not up to explaining his motives for what felt like the tenth time that day and definitely not touching that second comment. As he was closing his eyes, he felt a weight settle beside him atop the quilted covers. Cracking open a single blue eye, he watched the demon closely in case he was in danger of suddenly being stabbed to death but the pale man did nothing more than sit with a thoughtful look. They were silent for a few moments, a welcome break from the day’s discourse. Breathing quiet in the early evening air; comfortable silence. 

 

This is where the Skyloft people began: the surface. Long ago, Hylia may have made the right choice to send them into the heavens but it was time they returned where they belonged. Outside the shelter, children could be heard laughing as they played in the tall grass. A screech of happiness rang out, probably one of kids discovering a new insect to catch in their tiny hands. A light breeze filtered through the leaves and the song of the crickets began to pick up. It was peaceful in a way only simple life can be. 

 

“Why do you care for your people?”

 

The question was abrupt. Link opened both his blue eyes and watched the light fade through the cracks in the ceiling of his temporary home. “They raised me,” he began, not entirely sure why he was willing to give away a piece of his private life. “I had no family after my parents disappeared. I was left to the academy. They could’ve let me die but they aren’t like that; they’re nice people who would help anyone who asked for it.” There was no answer to that, only a pensive look to those narrow features. “They’re good. Pure.”

 

“You don’t...resent them for their ignorance? They sent a child to face the devil itself,” the demon eventually replied. Link sat up, leaning back on his arms with a questioning tilt to his head.

 

“Does that bother you?” he asked. “We’re trained as knights from childhood on. I’m only a year from graduating.” The other man scoffed, narrowing his eyes at the window through which he could see some of the other children circling around in some game. He could see sadness tinging their play as they mourned the disappearance of their friend. 

 

In his homeland, back in the demon realm, it was not so carefree. Not to say they did not play as children or have joyous moments. It just wasn’t the same culture. Malice was a standard where love ruled on the surface. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. If he’d been caught running around with another demon’s offspring...Well, he didn’t have many friends which meant he made it to adulthood safely. Socialization wasn’t important when you live in the dark and squabbled for sustenance everyday. The memories of his upbringing hardened his heart and his resentment of Hylia.

 

“Bother me? I’d have to care first. I simply wondered if they forced all their young out into danger before they can tie their own boots. For all that love is preached here on the surface it seems it is not practiced,” he spat, turning his head away from the happy scene outside. Link considered his words, thinking how best to explain. Humans are far more complicated than simply loving or hating.

 

“We’re not _forced_. They don’t threaten to kill us if we choose a different path. At least, not that I know of. It’s an honor to defend your people because they cannot do it for themselves.” Ghirahim said nothing. “Besides, you’re assuming I love everyone the same. You can disapprove of somebody’s actions but still care about them,” he argued. This caused a smile to spread across the demon’s face and Link leaned away. 

 

“Ah yes, you speak of your counterpart. She’s rather cute, isn’t she? Fierce, young, and hopelessly willing to please you. I certainly couldn’t tolerate that banshee voice or her righteousness but perhaps you can get earplugs,” he chuckled. “Though you say you resent her. Maybe she’s not a match for you,” he asked, turning to the other and leaning in slightly. He tipped Link’s face up with a curled finger, reveling in the flush upon the warrior’s cheeks. “After all, she did use you all the while ignoring any dangers you faced. Even knowing I, a formidable swordsman with incredible good looks, was seeking you out she did nothing but run away,” he whispered, breath gently washing over Link and causing the blonde to run his tongue over his lips nervously. 

 

Neither of them moved, tied together at the eyes. Blood began to pulse in Link’s cheeks, the heated blush reaching the tips of his pointed ears as his mouth dropped open. A strange, almost surprised look came over Ghirahim’s face when his prey leaned into the touch. He simply meant to tease, or perhaps more accurately,  _ taunt _ the boy. This was unexpected. How far could he go with this advantage? He caressed Link’s jaw with a thumb, raising goosebumps in his wake. 

 

Link pulled away roughly, breaking whatever trance Ghirahim had put him under. His cheeks were incredibly hot as he stood up, pointedly ignoring the other man’s wide grin.  “I’m going to take a bath,” he announced, grabbing a towel from the solitary desk standing in the corner and marching out of the cabin. That had been incredibly uncomfortable and he needed to shake it off.

 

________________________________________

 

The first touch of cool water was heavenly, the refreshing coolness a welcome reprieve from the heat in his cheeks. Up to his neck in the basin of water at the bottom of the waterfall, he brooded. 

 

Why hadn’t he pulled away sooner? When Zelda had attempted the same move the night before, he’d nearly fallen off the bed in his attempt to get away. This time he’d allowed it to get further than he was comfortable with. Or maybe he  _ was _ comfortable with it?

 

Maybe it was because it wasn’t a big deal. 

 

It was what everybody expected from them. Link saves Zelda, they fall in love, have a few children and live happily on the surface. If he kissed Zelda, it would end dreadfully. She would be heartbroken. He’s not  _ in love _ with her and that’s the problem. He had no doubts that she would devote herself to him in an instant, readily have his kids, but it wouldn’t be fair. To either of them. 

 

He tried to push the thoughts away, sinking his head beneath the surface of the water. He held his breath, appreciating the feel of his expanded lungs. Typically he used the dragon’s scale which prevented him from feeling the urgency of needing air. This made him feel real, like he was  _ normal _ and not equipped with superpowers. Surfacing, he sucked in a deep breath that made his head dizzy and in that moment, his mind was amazingly blank. 

 

But then the thoughts returned. 

 

It wasn’t as if he didn’t appreciate Zelda’s beauty. He’s a young man and he did live at the academy with all the other boys his age. Zelda was stunning and had grown into her looks, her body filling out in all the right ways. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t ogled her at least once before the quest. She had to be the most beautiful girl he’d ever laid eyes on. And yet it wasn’t enough to love her, not so shallowly.

 

So what was it that stopped him from running away from Ghirahim? He knew better than to think anything that just happened was more than taunting. An old trick. Every time they faced off it was after some sort of lengthy monologue involving flirtatious insults. If there even was such a thing. He actually felt a little like puking. He needed to get his head looked at if he was even considering anything more than tolerating Lord Ghirahim.

 

But here he was still blushing from the encounter like he’d just had his first wet dream. He sank into the water up to his nose, letting the water cool his cheeks as they heated up again. Emotions were high after Kukiel’s disappearance and the discussions in the early morning. He’d been caught off guard and that was Ghirahim’s game. He’d just need to be more vigilant from now on, more aware of being played.

 

Tomorrow they would be alone together. He cringed at his own word choice. They would have no choice but to communicate. If only it could be civil, like right before it had become weird earlier. Ghirahim would be much more likable if he could act like a normal,  _ sane _ person. 

 

But maybe that was asking too much. The guy was deranged and prone to psychotic breaks whenever he got too irritated. Since striking their deal he’d been on unusually good behavior, excluding the earlier conversation. Link predicted this pleasant situation to last one more day at most. 

 

He watched the clouds flutter by overhead as the stars began to sprinkle the night sky. Somewhere out there, Kukiel was alive and demon lord or not, he’s going to rescue her. It’s his duty.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Let me start by saying I am SO sorry. It has been ages since I updated, I know. Spring semester is kicking my ass and giving me no time (or motivation) to write. But, I managed this chapter and I have the next chapter started (and also plans for a One Punch Man fic in the works if you're into that).
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's read and continues to read this story. And a big, big thank you to those who comment. I love hearing from all of you and it gives me motivation when I consider not writing anymore. So again, thank you for sticking with me!
> 
> (also, shout out to my friend from sequential imaging. Leave a comment if you get around to reading my fic \\(^o^)/ )
> 
> As usual, the story is unbeta'd and all mistakes are mine.

Like being doused in the cold water of Lake Floria, Link awoke with a start and a gasp. Light from daybreak poured through the open window over his body as he sat up. His hair, longer and darker now than it used to be, fell loosely around his head in a messy array. Yawning, he scrubbed at his eyes with a fist before standing up. Already he could feel the anxiety of the day’s plan settling in as he pulled on his chainmail and tunic. The metal sat heavy upon his body, cool and dense to protect the fragile skin below. It did nothing to lower his shoulders, hunched with tension.

Slipping on his worn leather boots, he paused and looked at the sword in the corner. It shimmered despite no light hitting the straight blade and Ghirahim materialized in a shower of gaudy diamonds. Saying nothing, he sat upon the window sill and gazed outside broodingly. Link elected to ignore him for the time being, instead reaching for his leather gloves. He turned them over, observing the worn material where it had begun to crack and fade from constant friction.

He slid them on, clenching his fists a few time to readjust to the feeling of having his calloused hands covered. Though he’d worn them the day before, he hadn’t taken the time to realize how much he’d missed the feel of the material molded perfectly to his hands. Putting on his knight’s uniform felt like a ritual and it was hard to ignore the thrill of it.

On the back of the left glove sat the Triforce, a constant dull sheen of gold radiating out from the tiny symbol. Deep inside, he was surprised it was still there; he was hardly worthy of it now. It was a wonder that the goddess hadn’t abandoned him yet, especially when he agreed to take in a demon. The little golden triangles were a sign of his purity. Would they disappear some day if that purity were tainted? He clenched his fist tightly and lowered his hand. The time for reveling was long past, unfortunately.

Someday, if he made it to old age, he would write about his dressing routine. He would note every sensation: from the weight of the venture pouch around his waist to the slide of his arms through the green cotton tunic. Whole paragraphs would be devoted to the process of lacing up his boots and the fine stitching on his pants. He would write prose about getting his hat to stay on just right without blowing away in the gusty winds of Skyloft. But for now, he would have to put the memory away for later.

He stood, ready to set out.

“Let’s go,” he said, voice quiet in the crisp early morning. Ghirahim unfolded himself from his seat and followed along silently behind the knight, eyeing the sword now strapped to the blonde’s back. The Goddess shield, polished and reinforced by the blacksmith on Skyloft, reflected the morning sun exquisitely as the pair made their way to the edge of the new village.

It was a great relief to the hero that many of the villagers had not woken yet. Only Kukiel’s parents and Groose stood with the others meant to leave that day. The red haired man looked more relaxed than the day before but he still had his arms crossed as Link approached, eyeing the white haired demon trailing behind with thinly veiled distaste.

“Well, Shorty, are you ready to go?” he asked, resting an arm on Link’s head and missing the glare the blonde shot him. He wasn’t paying attention to the hero anyway, instead focusing on Ghirahim. The demon stared back, looking on the situation with indifference. Link shrugged the other man’s arm off and fixed his hat that had been sent askew.

“I know that hair accounts for most of your brain but you do realize I’m the one who’s been on the whole life changing mission,” Link snapped, shoulders tensing. Not a good way to start out the day. Groose sneered, taking a step back and looking over at the approaching duo. Pipit and Karane, set to leave later in the day, had brought last minute supplies for the hero so he didn’t need to return to Skyloft. Karane handed him a few bottles of red heart potion as well as an enhanced guardian potion, the pastel pink liquid glittering like rose quartz. He tucked them away and thanked her, giving the girl a brief hug before she stepped back.

Pipit had simply brought him a journal with a few pencils, a request he’d made of the other man the night before. He was quite serious about recording his travels and while a journal might weigh him down, it was a risk that he was willing to take. “I’m grateful to both of you. It means a lot that you support this quest. Please be careful in your travels and send me a message with Scrapper if you need anything. I’m pretty certain he can find me anywhere on the surface so don’t hesitate if you have information or need a rescue,” he said, looking at them both in turn.

“Link, we’ll be fine,” Karane assured, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We’ve learned from the best, right? Pip and I can handle this. You just let us know what we can do to help from here.”

“She’s right,” Pipit joined in. “We’ll see what information we can get but if you need us, we can be on a bird to your location as soon as possible. We all want you, Kukiel, and Ghirahim,” he paused, looking pointedly at the now flabbergasted demon, “back in one piece. Don’t think you’re in this alone, Link. We’re here to help you.” The blonde swallowed hard, the emotions stuck in his throat. It wouldn’t be appropriate to shed tears of gratitude but he did reach out and put a hand on both Pipit and Karane’s shoulders, squeezing them gently.

“Thank you both for your bravery and kindness,” he said, voice thick. “We’ll meet again soon,” he said, nudging them both back towards the village. Kukiel’s parents approached him next, clinging to each other as they stood in front of the knight. “I will do my best to bring your daughter home safe. I failed you and there is nothing I could say to make up for my lapse in judgment. Please, know that I am so, so sorry,” he began, feeling his palms sweat as he looked into their scared faces. Kukiel’s mother smiled sadly at him and brushed some of his blonde hair out of his face in a maternal gesture. He savored the feeling.

“Oh, Link. This isn’t your fault. You are one person. We know you can’t protect us all the time,” she said. Her husband, Jakamar, rubbed her shoulder in support before smiling at Link.

“She’s right, my boy. Kukiel’s always been an adventurer, disappearing and being friendly to things she ought to be afraid of. We’re just thankful that you can help us find our little girl,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “You just make sure that you come back, alright? We’d all miss you something fierce if you never returned.” Link nodded, feeling a weight lift from his heart. Ever since the girl’s disappearance he’d worried that her parents blamed him for his lack of vigilance or foresight. To be given kindness from people so clearly hurting was moving. He swore, on the goddess Hylia, he would do right by them and bring their daughter home. Kukiel’s mother rested a hand on her pregnant belly and looked past Link to Ghirahim, making eye contact and smiling.

“Thank you as well. I don’t know what you’ve done in the past or what you will do in the future, but right now I am grateful that you are helping Link bring my little girl home,” she said, voice soft but firm. Link felt warmth for the woman who’d always taken the time to talk to him as a child, for her motherly affection when he had none in his life. He felt pride at the strength of his fellow villagers. To know nothing of what Ghirahim had done except that it had been cruel, yet still extend kindness. It showed the compassion humans could have for others despite adversity. How pure intentions could be. Maybe it could influence the demon for the good.

Ghirahim said nothing, looking distinctly uncertain as to what he should do. Skipping talking altogether, he simply bowed to her in respect. It looked stiff, like he hadn’t done the gesture in some time; maybe never at all. Link found his gaze lingering on the man, running his gaze along the exposed muscles in his back and arms.

He tore his eyes away to face the couple as they walked back to the village, leaving only Groose. The redhead stepped up to the hero until they were nearly toe-to-toe. “Be safe out there,” he said gruffly. “Zelda would be devastated if you didn’t come back. I don’t wanna see her cry her eyes out over a pipsqueak like you,” he grunted. The sneer Link was ready to put on slipped away as he realized that Groose was not as heartless as he appeared. Underneath that ridiculous pompadour and haughty attitude was genuine concern. Not for Link, of course, but for Zelda who truly would be distraught. A finger poked him in the chest and he tuned back in. “Look, don’t spend too long on your little adventure. You shouldn’t keep a lady waiting and I might steal her heart away from you,” he lectured, narrowing his eyes at the blonde.

Link smiled albeit a bit bitterly, pushing Groose’s hand away from his chest with perhaps a little more force than was needed. “Groose, you don’t have to compete with me, alright?” he said, watching the other man’s eyes widen. “I love Zelda, really, but it’ll never be more than friendship. If you love her, and I can see that you do in your weird obsessive way, then you be here for her while I’m gone,” he encouraged, turning away. “I’m sure she’ll find something to like once she gets past your personality,” he tossed over his shoulder, chuckling to himself as Groose shouted obscenities from the village’s edge. Ghirahim materialized next to him, matching his stride as they headed northeast.

“You’re a sentimental fool,” the demon said, judgment strongly implied in his tone. Link sucked in a deep breath and looked up at the clear blue sky where it met the smoke of Eldin volcano.

“Yeah, probably,” he admitted happily.

_____________________

Groose watched the blonde and his demon pet disappear through the trees before turning back towards the village. The residents were slowly starting to trickle out of their houses to the center of the encampment while the children scampered around. A few had decided to play hide and seek with a shivering Kikwi who looked less than enthused. Zelda, beautiful and brave goddess that she was, stood at the center of all the action, chatting with some of the older citizens. She really knew what she was doing, directing the men to help build while the women went in search of food and materials. A natural born leader. Groose sighed, admiring the white haired woman.

She paused what she was doing to smile at him, waving him over to the crowd. As soon as he stood at her side she excused them, walking off to her private hut. She sat down on her bed, hands cupped in her lap as she looked at the floor. Groose stood at the door, leaning against the wall as he watched her fidget. After a few minutes of silence, she spoke. “Do you think they’ll be alright?” Her voice was soft, trembling as she picked at a loose thread on her pink dress.

It was that vulnerability that made her such a good leader, Groose decided. The fact that she could put on a brave face but still be human enough to have doubts. She was even putting aside her hatred of the demon freak to worry about her friend. How strong could one woman be? He walked over, crouching down in front of her.

“Zel, they’re gonna be fine,” he assured, patting one of her hands. She looked up, her big blue eyes watery and her short white hair falling in her face. He pushed it back; admiring the color she’d chosen to dye it before looking back at her face. “Link’s an idiot but he knows what he’s doing, right? He’d be better off if I was with him, I’m pretty great after all, but he wanted me to look after ya,” he said, grinning. “Thought my amazing skills would be better at protecting the village,” he joked, flexing his muscles and puffing up his chest. She laughed, drying her eyes a little before standing up.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she chuckled, brushing off her dress. “Link can take care of himself. Maybe it’ll be good for him to do some adventuring again,” she said. Her smile slipped. “I just wish he wasn’t travelling with that...that monster. I can’t understand why he wouldn’t just...I don’t know…just..” She waved her hands around, unable to say what she was thinking.

“Kill him?” Groose finished. He raised his eyebrows when she looked down in shame. Groose couldn’t blame her. She’d once told him the story, albeit the abbreviated version, of the Goddess Quest. From what he understood, Ghirahim was a murderous bastard who, in his supposed final moments, cracked and lost his marbles. He’d allowed Demise to break his body and mind. How anybody, human or otherwise, could agree to that, he’d never understand. “Link is...well, not a softy but he’s definitely not the kind of guy to kill in cold blood or without hearing his opponent out,” Groose said when Zelda didn’t elaborate. “Me and him aren’t the best of friends or nothin’ but I think he’s smart enough to know when things can’t be helped. Maybe he sees something redeemable in the freak.”

“I...hope so,” she said, crossing her arms and biting her lip. “At least, I hope that’s all it is,” she muttered. She was silent a moment longer before her face brightened. “Hey, Groose, y’know what? We should have a bonfire tonight after Pipit and Karane leave. I think it’ll cheer everybody up!” Groose smiled, enjoying the happiness now radiating from the beautiful girl in front of him. He’d definitely woo her away from Link.

He didn’t miss the anxiety passing like a shadow over her face as they left.

____________

 

Three days after their departure, Karane sat on the ground against a tree as she carefully folded both her and Pipit’s spare clothing to be put back into their bags. They’d run into a band of left over bokoblins earlier that morning as they approached the border of Lanayru desert. The fight, while quick, had left their bags scattered across the increasingly dusty landscape and they’d elected to wash them in the closest stream. Trees were becoming sparser the closer they honed in on the desert and the female knight expected all water sources to disappear quite soon. She set aside two bottles as a reminder to fill up on the precious resource.

Pipit sat quietly on a large sun warmed rock, studying an expansive map that Link had provided for them. The hero had helpfully added some commentary to it in his own neat handwriting, warning of dangerous conditions in specific areas. It looked as though they still had a half a day’s worth of walking to do before reaching any main areas but they would need to keep moving if they wanted to stay safe. He paused, peering over at Karane. She was sharpening her short sword and cleaning it dutifully, looking like the badass warrior he loved and cherished. She looked up. “What’s up, Pip?”

“Nothing, just...I’m looking at this map. Link said there was no specific group of indigenous people in the desert beyond the robots who are basically out of order. I don’t really know what to even look for when we get there,” he admitted, rubbing his chin in thought. “Who do we even talk to?” The heat was starting to rise as the sun moved closer to 12 o’clock, making beads of sweat appear on his forehead. He hoped the heat resistance potion he’d specially ordered protected his fair skin. Already he could feel a flush on his cheeks.

Karane plopped down next to him on the rock, her tan skin shimmering in the sunlight. “He mentioned that the…what are they called? Gordons? No, the Goron people have researchers there who might have seen or heard about something. I think we should start there and then see what they can tell us.” She patted his arm gently but seemed to reconsider and placed a loving kiss on his cheek. They were silent for a moment before Karane continued in a tiny voice. “How far do you think a creature would...would take a little girl?”

Pipit could hear the unspoken ‘do you think Kukiel’s alive’ in Karane’s voice and he frowned, running a hand through his increasingly sweaty hair. There wasn’t an answer to give, at least, not one that was favorable. A little girl on her own or worse, with a murderous demon creature, wasn’t a recipe for a happy ending.

If only he’d pulled his weight. What was the point of all his training if he couldn’t protect anybody? Teeth clenched, he let out a frustrated sigh. Three years older than Link and he could hardly call himself a knight. Looks like all those night shifts were useless; even if they helped his mom, he certainly hadn’t gained anything from it.

Karane watched his expression darken, biting her lip and kicking a hard soled boot against the rock they sat on. It was like she couldn’t ever find the right words to support him. Just as she considered offering a new topic of conversation, a sharp movement caught her eye from beyond the scraggly tree line. She leapt down, pulling out her newly sharpened sword and searching for the source. To her right, Pipit was slowly edging forward with his own blade raised defensively. Scanning the area, she spotted the creature that was making the ruckus and charged, biting back a war cry.

“Wait, wait, don’t hurt me!” The voice was strange, like the high whine of electricity. It was absolutely grating. Karane had her blade held tight against the creature’s neck, loosening her hold slightly as she waited for an explanation. “I’m sorry, I am only passing through, you see.”

“Who are you?” Pipit’s voice was cold, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. This creature was not something Link had mentioned. Both knights took a moment to truly look at the newcomer, sizing up his strange form. He was almost...feline? Like a harsher, skeletal Remlit on two legs. Below it’s first set of bony arms was another set that was clutching desperately at its gauzy orange garb. Atop its head, between a set of large fluffy ears, was a hat that was dotted with shiny metal beads. Large green eyes, blown wide with fear, flicked back and forth between the two knights like a cornered animal.

“I am Masa. I assure you, I’m no threat. I was looking for a shortcut and well, there’s really no way to get past here without getting near the badlands. Not that I couldn’t cross them but it’s far safer to just go around, you see? A-and I have to get back to my homeland because I’m expected to bring the Kraidos their valued gift from the land of fire. So if you’ll please excuse me,” they rambled, attempting to twist their lithe body out of Karane’s hold. She gripped them tighter for a moment before letting go, watching with careful eyes. Masa -as they so named themselves- began to back away slowly, only to smack into the hard chest of the yellow knight. Ears going flat, they wrung their top set of hands nervously, making the golden bangles around their narrow wrists jingle. “I-I see. Might you be interested in buying something?” he offered meekly.

“Sorry about the hostile greeting! We’ve seen our fair share of monsters on our trek and you can’t be too careful,” Pipit began, backing away slightly to give the merchant some space. “We’re not going to harm you but you should take care not to sneak up on others in the future.” Masa nodded enthusiastically, probably planning to hightail it as soon as possible from the way they were looking frantically towards the treeline again. “We’re really sorry to ask after, uh, everything but we need information. Could you help us?”

“Oh, yes, information. I know lots of things about many lands,” they insisted, face brightening. “I am traveling, you see. I have been given a great gift from the dragon Eldin himself as a gesture of goodwill towards the Kraidos!” they exclaimed, clapping their lower hands together in excitement. The other two arms were digging in the large sack they’d been carrying over their shoulder, rummaging around and making strange noises. They pulled out a strange crystal like object, almost like a flame made of diamonds. It glowed like embers from within. “I...know it is unwise to show it off but is it not simply stunning? Exquisite!” They placed it carefully back in their bag, securing it with layer upon layer of thick shiny cloth.

“...Kraidos… I’ve never heard that term. Where are you returning to?” Karane asked, sliding her sword back into its scabbard and securing it to her back. Masa seemed appalled at their ignorance, glancing between them incredulously.

“Surely you have heard of the Krai people? We are many in numbers and forge the finest blades!” they exclaimed, throwing all four arms in the air wildly. “Our wonderful Kraidos! Her highness, the bewitchingly beautiful Krairiza and her wife, the kind and gentle Kraiaria, lead us with strength and integrity. You must come from distant lands if you have not heard of their wonderful deeds!” They said, covering their mouth and chuckling.

Pipit and Karane shared a look before turning back to them. “You could say that,” the yellow knight muttered. “You say you forge blades. You don’t happen to be from the so called “land of metals”, do you?” Masa beamed.

“Yes! I do believe we’ve been called that by those who know our blacksmithing prowess,” they said, looking proud. “If I may ask, do your travels bring you to my homeland?”

“Ah, well, we’re looking for somebody,” Karane said, looking over at Pipit. “A young one was taken from our...village...and we are trying to find out if anybody has seen her. She’s got dark hair and chubby cheeks.”

“And her name is Kukiel. She’s very small and we’re worried that she’s disappeared for good,” Pip continued, rubbing the back of his neck. “Have you seen her?”

Masa deflated. “I have not. I am truly sorry. It is hard to hear of a loss so young,” they said, sounding far away before they perked up. “My people travel all over this continent. Perhaps you could return with me and speak to others about your predicament?”

The knights considered it for a moment, stepping away to discuss it. Moments later, they turned back with determined faces. “Please, take us with you.”

Masa clapped their hands together joyfully. “Yes, alright. But we must hurry and leave soon. I must make one more stop before we return to Krai land,” they insisted, urging them to grab their belongings. “I have an audience with Lanayru, the thunderdragon. It is good fortune that he is on our path to my land, it will be much easier to avoid the plague.” The knights stopped what they were doing, looking at the merchant with shock.

“Plague?” Pipit echoed tonelessly.

“Oh yes, in my land we call it the Drifting Draft. Quite a childish name for such a terrifying predicament overtaking the desert,” they mused.

“What exactly is it?” Masa turned to look at the horizon beyond the trees and over the distant sand dunes.

“Ice. The great sand sea is frozen!”

____________

 

Eldin volcano is always a sight to behold. It looms over the surrounding land, casting a shadow over the forest. The smoke from the hot core curls up towards the sky in a beautiful swirl, visible from anywhere on the surface. Link had felt the temperature rise as they approached the base of the mountain that evening, the breeze steamy and stinking of sulfur. The fireshield earrings took the sting of the heat out of the equation, leaving the world pleasantly cozy as he set up camp. It was no less disquieting to be laying his bed mat at the base of a destructive force of nature.

Settling in was a quiet, solitary experience. Ghirahim had long since disappeared into his vessel to avoid walking on the hard ground, a “peasant-like activity” as the demon had so bluntly called it. ‘Why walk when you could teleport?’ He'd been obnoxious over the past three days of travel, taking every opportunity to fluster the hero and cause mayhem. Link had been wondering if the demon was broken somehow with how quiet he'd been when they left. Strange as it was, he preferred the demon be more active. At the very least, it was something he could handle. The devil you know and all that. Although, like now, the man would get into sulks and refuse to speak for hours at time. That was more unsettling.

The ground, while unforgiving on the delicate human spine, was the best option for sleeping in the wild. Trees, too, were a place to rest but the threat of toppling off leached energy from his already taxed soul. Just the thought of having to balance and stay in light sleep all night was exhausting. He’d learned one too many times that short of strapping yourself down, there’s no good way to sleep in a tree and his aching back would testify to that. Shaking his head to dispel that awful flashback, he laid out his thin bedroll across the clearest patch of scraggly grass. The poor plants made a dry crunching noise as if they hadn’t seen a drop of rain in their short life cycle. Maybe they hadn’t considering it was always so hot. The only moisture was the miserable haze of humidity hanging over the sparse woods.

He still needed to make up a fire. The extra heat would be uncomfortable, sweltering even with the fireshield protection, but the light would create a protective boundary between him and the creatures of the night. He'd rather not wake up to a Chu Chu snacking enthusiastically on his legs or something equally horrible sizing him up as their next meal. Just the thought made him shudder and gag lightly. Only once did he find himself waking up with a Walltula spider planted right in front of his face. He could've sworn his soul left its body for a moment before he’s quickly grabbed his sword, slicing the arachnid in half. Sleep evaded him for the rest of that night.

The sun was setting quickly, the shadow of night bleeding across the pink sky. Darkness was creeping into the clearing as Link searched for nearby stones to line his fire pit. Picking up a solid piece of red slate, he turned on his heel to place it back at camp when his hackles rose; the nagging feeling of something approaching that was distinctly unfriendly. The rock he held dropped to the ground with a dull thunk as he rounded on the treeline, sword drawn.

Poised, he waited.

An evening breeze swept through the leaves, sounding like the roar of water.

His eyes scanned again, seeing nothing.

A movement to the right.

The loud screech of a single Keese raised the fine blonde hairs on Link’s arms. It’s bat like body swooped towards him from the upper branches. Raising his blade, he tracked it with his eyes as it made jerky movements across the clearing. It would be easiest to wait for it to approach and then simply slash it backwards. He tensed, hand wrapped tightly around his blade’s hand guard in a white knuckled grip. The Keese circled back disjointedly, preparing to swoop in close.

His blade shimmered, starling the hero. His eyes flicked down and back up to the Keese who had started backpedaling. A piercing whistle, like the cry of a bird, rang out and Link scrambled to cover his sensitive ears. Sword falling clumsily from his now busy hands, he dropped painfully to his knees in the red volcanic dirt.

Hesitantly, he cracked an eye an eye open to peer around the clearing. The sound had stopped moments ago but it still echoed in his head. The Keese, its tiny chest heaving, was perched on a nearby branch. Its bulging orange eyes watched him warily before flicking away nervously in the way only wild animals do. Above him, legs dangling where he sat on a wide sturdy branch, Ghirahim chuckled. “Forgive me, sky child, I forget your weak human ears can’t handle demonic calls,” he said, sounding completely unapologetic as he picked at a loose thread on his shirt. A shirt Link had been so kind as to buy him since the demon’s wretchedly revealing body suit had been in tatters.

“What...what was that?” Link asked, teeth clenched. He sat back, legs folded under himself, as he tried to get the ringing to dissipate. Good mood evaporated, the hero glared up at the man in the tree above.

“You sound upset,” the sword spirit said, feigning hurt. “I did you a favor only a demon lord could perform.” The explanation did little to brighten the blonde’s mood. When he got no response, Ghirahim dramatically threw his arms up and let out a put upon huff. “Well, I wouldn’t expect you to understand just what a gesture I’ve made,” he snapped. He let out another quieter sound, less like nails against a plate and more like a coo. A flutter of wings later and the bat was settling on the demon’s outstretched arm, looking for all the world like a pet.

“What exactly should I be so grateful for? The blown out ear drums?” Link grumbled, rubbing once more at his ears before standing up. He collected his blade, taking extra care to drag it in the dirt. Ghirahim, scratching gently at the Keese’s tiny for head, snorted.

“And I quote myself ‘weak human ears’,” he chuckled,covering his white painted lips with a gloved hand. He flipped his hair out of his face and focused his obsidian eyes on the hero below “I created a barrier; a minor show of my awe inspiring power! Any dark creature within a mile of this spot knows better than to approach without my permission,” he gloated, nose turned in the air. “They know better than to attack a superior being.” Link stared back at him suspiciously, trying to parse out the other’s motives. He didn’t appear to be malicious.

“Why would you do that?” he asked, head tilted up to gaze thoughtfully at his companion. Ghirahim stared back but his face was solemn. It was bizarre to see him so serious again. Offhandedly, Link wondered if having that emotional up and down was tiring.

“For protection, of course. I have a vested interest in my master’s wellbeing,” he said. “You humans, you have so many things you have to do to survive. You sleep, eat at certain times, do all manner of rituals just to get one task done. One bite from a bat and you could get an infection that snuffs out your life before you’ve even lived it,” he lamented, voice quiet. It was the most Link had heard him speak the entire day. He quirked an eyebrow, waiting for more explanation. Ghirahim peered down at the hero again, his face neutral. “Sky child, have you picked up nothing in your travels? Are you really so blind? So hell bent on rescuing your friend, you seem to have missed important facts of life so I’ll take the time to educate you,” he continued icily. “Despite what your goddess preaches, not all who are born and roam in the dark are malicious. We do not come into existence bloodthirsty and and itching for war. We have childhoods, parents, friends. It may be more brutal, less like you're strange loving communities, but we are not simply mindless evil monsters. We respect rank and power. Afford us that same respect and you won’t find yourself being digested by something bigger than you come morning.”

He hopped down from his branch with a quiet thud, looming over the blonde with a fierce scowl on his face. Link took a cautious step back but didn’t give up his ground. He scowled right back. “If you’re not all evil, then why choose to fight for Demise? You could have helped my side! I know you were stalked me before we fought so why didn’t you come to me for...for...asylum or I don’t know. You could’ve sto-”

“Stopped him? Hardly. He was the demon king. I wanted power, I wanted out of the underworld of putrid, stinking goblins and you were just a weak, untrained brat. I would have died for him,” Ghirahim spat, dark lines starting to bleed across his face as they once had when they faced off in battle. Link felt the situation starting to spiral out of control but he couldn’t help it. The demon was hitting every nerve today. Not to mention his head was starting to throb even worse than before. He stared the other man down.

“You let him break you! That kind of devotion is just.. Sick. How was that any better than what you were living before?”

“You don’t know what you’re preaching about. Little boys ought to keep silent when they have nothing intelligent to say. If you spent one day in the demon realm you would run home, weeping for the protection of your precious goddess and begging for the simple times when a measly bat was your fiercest foe.”

“Would you still die for him?” Link asked suddenly, crossing his arms angrily.

Ghirahim was silent but he didn’t look away. The dark lines faded from under his eyes.

“I said, would you still d-”

“I know what you said,” the demon said, cutting the blonde’s words short. He snapped his fingers and reappeared back in the tree, startling the Keese that had been calmly watching the exchange. It fluttered off and Link watched disappear into the trees. “Go to bed, sky child.”

“You can’t just pick a fight and then shut down when you’re not happy with the answer!” Link shouted, his voice way too loud in the empty clearing. He grit his teeth. “You’re all over the fucking place! It’s like talking to two different crazy people.” Ghirahim sneered but didn’t respond.

Link wanted to pull his hair out in frustration or scream into the night so that the goddesses above could hear his anger. Every step forward with the other man resulted in ten steps back. The whole day the demon had been perfectly sane and it’s a fucking toss up as to what set him off. The niggling regret Link had been shoving into the shadows of his mind began to creep to the forefront, reminding him that this was all his decision. At his side, his fists ached from the tight clench he held them in.

“Go to sleep, Link,” the demon said, waving a hand in dismissal. He turned his face up towards the moon, the light making his pale grey skin glow. “Nothing will bother us tonight.”

The hero resisted the urge to strangle the other and slunk off to his bedroll, kicking the rocks he’s gathered earlier. After hissing in pain, toe throbbing, he dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Back to the demon, he tried to drift off but Ghirahim’s words had the hero thinking. Perhaps...perhaps he should tone down the immediate killing of dark creatures…

He sighed. Trying again to fall asleep, he watched the slow curl of pink tinged smoke rising from Eldin volcano. Behind him he could hear the little squeaks of the Keese; it was probably still enjoying the demon lord’s attention. Link frowned but it faded as his eyes fluttered shut. Whatever had set the demon off earlier was beyond him but tomorrow he would make a mental catalogue of everything they did to find a pattern.

There had to be a way to get Ghirahim on his side without all the fighting.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So....it's been months since I posted a chapter. I'd go into detail but it boils down to health and school. I'm graduating soon and planning to move across the country for work so I've been hella busy. 
> 
> Anyways, I rewrote this chapter a few times but this final version turned out better than I expected. Thank you to everyone who commented and left kudos! 
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> -Wren
> 
> (All mistakes are mine and a product of being overtired.)

The night passed slowly, the sky never sinking into the heavy darkness of a moonless night due to the volcano’s looming presence. Hisses of steam escaping the surface and the crackle of a far off lava flow replaced the ambient sounds of the forest. Up a sparse tree, under the cover of what little leaves remained in the oppressive heat of Eldin Province, sat the former demon lord with his delicate face tilted to the sky. Dark eyes mirrored the starless sky as he contemplated his situation.

He hadn’t planned that little outburst earlier. Even now he bit his too long tongue as he recalled the small trace of humanity he’d let slip. The instant the words spilled from his mouth, even through all his anger, he could see empathy build in the sky child’s eyes. It was worse than pity. Pity he could take, turn his nose up and act as though he needed nothing less. No, it wasn’t pity. It was _understanding_. Link, in his naïveté and rash judgement, had seen a flash of redemption despite the demon’s reluctance to repeal his stance on Demise.

Clenching a gloved fist until the leather groaned, Ghirahim turned his face to the dim outline of the sky child lying prone at the base of the tree. In his sleep he appeared peaceful as always and it irritated the white haired man. The boy slept soundly, his small nose twitching every minute or so, while the demon lo- _former_ demon lord- suffered the painful reality of an identity crisis. Arms curled up under his face like a child, Link slumbered on, blissfully unaware of the stark gaze resting on him.

Ghirahim looked away sharply, taking the tip of a gloved finger into his mouth and pulling the fabric off. It has been too long since he’d seen his palms bare, the black swirls of ink that covered them in dazzling patterns of diamonds and runes. Fondly, he traced the lines with his other hand, recalling the meaning of each mark and how they enhanced his natural capabilities. The tattoo crept up the underside of his forearm, stopping starkly where his gloves would no longer cover. Of the few things he had left to remind him of home, his _true_ home with a mother and father, this was the one that comforted him the most. It was not unusual for demons to mark themselves, of course, but this had been a special occasion. The day he’d found out about his purpose. About the demon king and how he’d be his future weapon to battle for the underworlds’ freedom from the goddess’ reign of terror.

How his father and mother had been proud. He’d been an only child to an underworld metalsmith and a succubus, both with a flair for the dramatic. So when he’d come home, fresh from his appointment as King Demise’s personal blade, his parents had been keen on rewarding him. Off to the ink artist they’d been to receive the designs of warriors before him, gaining a small boost of ability with each needle prick. 

He wouldn’t say they meant nothing now. He still retained the enhancements even in his weakened state. But now he wondered if he deserved them or if, like the Goddess was sure to slowly revoke the triforce from the skychild, some deity would see fit to slowly strip the markings from his pale skin as punishment for his deeds. He wondered if the sky child was correct in believing that Ghirahim’s devotion to Demise, who left the demon world in shambles with no discernible leader in the midst of the chaos, was _sick_ in some way. A hero worship like the town people of Link’s home had for him but at a deranged level.

Would he have chosen the same path if he’d never known about his fate? Would he have followed the Demon King to the brink of utter destruction, so final that his tattered dark soul would stand no chance at reincarnation? He’d wanted, just like any human or other sentient creature capable of complex thought, to be successful in life; to escape the bottom rung and make something of himself. Did he? Could he honestly say, looking back on the past hundred or so years, that he was actually in a place better than he started? What of the rest of his life? It was hard to envision what would happen beyond a few days time now, unlike before the goddess hero interrupted his intended future place as the King’s right hand man.

Ghirahim let out a deep sigh, curling his bare fingers into a loose fist and recalling a past memory. He’d sat against a window in his home, face tipped up to look at the sky as he had been doing presently. He’d been naive then, simply excited at the prospect of being important in a world where power equated your value as an individual. His mother had come into the room, sweeping in like the beautiful seductress she had always been. She spoke of how proud she was, sitting beside him on the window seat and patting his newly inked hand lightly. Her face had become very serious then as she leaned forward, her long white hair shimmering as it fell against his arms.

It was rare that family members shared physical contact beyond a brief handshake or pat on the head so Ghirahim had stiffened as his mother pulled him into a warm hug. Quietly she had spoken about how she feared for his safety but would not stand in his way. Her final words had haunted him since Demise’s fall from power. “Ghira,” his name had always rolled off her tongue with an accent. “We are a people who survive. We do what we must. If it means you will continue to live, lay down your pride and ask for help.”

At the time, he’d brushed the words off and his mother had given him a somewhat sad smile as she patted his cheek. Now, glancing back to the sky child, he clutched at those words like a lifeline. He’d followed his mother’s advice, crawling back to the goddess hero when all was lost. From the moment they’d set out on this journey days ago, he’d thought he’d regret his choice but, almost fearfully, he realized he didn’t regret his decision at all. 

“Is there something on my face?”

Ghirahim snapped out of his thoughts, crossing his arms in an effort to cover his bare forearm from sight. Link was sitting up, rubbing his eyes groggily but still very much awake. The demon lord frowned, he must have lost track of time. The sun had begun to rise in the East, the first rays of light reaching across the land. “I was simply admiring your ability to turn your hair into a bird’s nest while being entirely unaware.”

Link blinked, reaching up one gloved hand to assess the damage to his hair. It didn’t seem too awful but he definitely had a bad case of bed head. Somewhere in his back he had a comb made of Loftwing bone but he really didn’t feel like getting it out before grabbing a bite to eat. Shrugging, he ran his fingers through a couple of times to get out the worst of the tangles. “Oh, you’re making it worse, you heathen.” Link looked up to retort but his nose bumped into a white covered chest. Long fingers began smoothing down his hair, giving the poor hero goosebumps all down his back. A flush worked its way up from his cheeks to the tips of his pointed ears.

The fingers in his hair stopped moving, simply resting where they were as the demon lord caught up with his own actions. He looked down to the red faced hero and a smirk grew across his face. Oh? So this made the boy uncomfortable? He leaned in a little closer, sliding the hand in the boy’s hair down to rest at the nape of his neck where he squeezed ever so gently. A shiver went down the blonde’s spine and, if it was possible, his face flushed a brighter red. It was an appealing sight, so much so that it startled both men. Ghirahim pulled back, combing through the golden locks one last time before removing his fingers. “Well, at the very least I won’t feel ill at the sight of you now,” he murmured. The goddess hero looked at his feet, refusing to make eye contact.

“T-thanks. I’m going to, uh, go eat. We should see Eldin as soon as possible,” he stuttered, backing away as if taking his eyes off the demon would result in certain death. Ghirahim huffed, stretching out his shoulders before turning to face the volcano. Out of the corner of his eye he watched the sky child scribbling furiously in a notebook and cramming a slice of bread in his mouth. The blush hadn’t faded from his cheeks.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

The trek to the fire sanctuary was quiet, only the sounds of heavy footfalls and Link’s occasional deep breath to accompany them. He could’ve dropped down from the sky, a convenient method of travel that was absolute hell on the shoulders, but he figured after months of hiding he probably needed the exercise. Just this morning he’d felt the last few days of walking as a dull ache in all his muscles. Or what muscles were left since he was probably as weak as a newborn Remlit. No doubt he looked incredibly gaunt, if not sickly, though he hadn’t approached a mirror in months to see for sure. Maybe he ought to have been practicing or at least doing some crunches in his spare time. He felt pretty pathetic trying to catch his breath at the top of the volcano’s path when he used to practically cartwheel all the way up without breaking a sweat.

Despite being out of shape, he stood outside the Fire Sanctuary’s front entrance, looking up at the intricate carved gates decorated with animal motifs. Standing in this same place a year ago he'd felt the flames of determination licking against skin. Today, the determination was replaced with desperation that left his skin clammy.

“Do you plan on becoming a attractive lawn statue for the fire dragon's front yard, sky child?” Ghirahim asked, impatiently waving a gloved hand in front of his face. The hero blinked, trying to process whether he’d just been insulted or not. The demon narrowed his eyes suspiciously before walking towards the grand door. “I see I’ve stolen your voice with my stunning looks. I truly apologize.” Link gritted his teeth and refused to take the bait, stomping over the stone threshold and flashing Ghirahim a rude gesture as he passed. He could swear he saw a tiny smirk form across those white lips and weirdly, it wasn’t as exasperating as he expected. He filed that thought away for future examination. “ _Finally_. Here I thought I’d be charged with carrying you across the threshold like a blushing damsel.” 

“You’re more ladylike than I am,” Link said, chuckling to himself. He expected a scathing retort but the demon merely shrugged, strutting ahead. Link appreciated the return of the demon’s amiable mood, shuddering at thought of spending the day like they had the night before. He didn’t think he had it in him to debate morals of war all morning. Besides, he got a pleasant view of the demon’s backside from this vantage point and he was simply too tired to acknowledge the implications of such a thought. The sword spirit came to a full stop however, when he reached the entryway. Link nearly ran him over, stopping to peer around the taller man’s back.

Mogomas, at least a dozen of them, were chattering away from their individual holes in the ground but the talk died as all eyes turned to the new arrivals. At once, they began throwing rocks in the demon’s direction. Link stepped in front, bashing away the projectiles with his shield and letting out a high pitch whistle that rivaled Ghirahim’s from the night before. Everyone froze.

“P...pal is that you?” one of the Mogmas asked, wide-eyed. Link lowered his shield but didn’t move from his defensive stance. The Mogma that had spoken scratched at his tuft of brown hair nervously as the others watched the interaction, still poised to fight. 

“Ledd?” Link asked. “What’s going on? You’ve never attacked before.” The Mogma stopped his fidgeting and crossed his arms. 

“We weren’t attacking _you_ ,” the Mogma sneered. “That creep,” he said, pointing a clawed finger at the sword spirit, “is responsible for those red goons that were crawling around here stealing our loot! How d’we know you ain’t a phony he made up?”

“How very eloquent,” Ghirahim said, voice oozing sarcasm. Link shot him a glare over his shoulder, considering the idea of stepping on the taller man’s foot but choosing to turn back to the issue at hand.

“I won’t waste my breath trying to convince you that I’m not a fraud,” Link began. “But I can show you this,” he said, crouching down and pulling off his right glove to reveal the glowing Triforce mark embedded in his skin. It glowed brightly, illuminating the hero’s face and dazzling the Mogmas surrounding them. Ledd appeared to drool slightly at the sight but he quickly gathered his wits. Link was suddenly very grateful for his reputation. There were very few who doubted him when he flashed the triforce in their direction.

“Alright...say I believe ya. What’s a big hero guy like you doin’ with a freaky thug like him?” Link heard Ghirahim’s hissed “ _what did he call me?”_ behind his back.

“He’s my new companion. I’m working on reforming him,” Link explained, standing up and pulling his glove back on over the luminous goddess mark. “I hope you won’t be disturbed by us while we’re here,” he said, voice taking on a diplomatic tone. “If there’s anything I can do to ease your fears, I will try my best to help.” The Mogmas whispered amongst themselves for a moment, casting curious glances at the demon who had remained as non-threatening as possible.

“How’s about ya leave him outside?” one said somewhere in the distance. Link frowned but quickly plastered on a neutral face.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that since he is tied to me as my weapon. I can assure you he won’t cause trouble,” the hero said. Ledd tugged on Link’s pant leg and the hero bent down once again to speak with him.

“Look, kid, I believe ya. I’m still suspicious but he hasn’t moved an inch since you guys walked in here,” Ledd said with sigh. Link mentally let out a breath he’d been holding, glad that the Mogmas weren’t giving them too much trouble over this little misstep. “Just watch him and keep him outta our territory.”

“Thanks Ledd. I’ll keep him on a tight leash,” Link said, chuckling. He stood up again, his knees protesting the constant up and down. “I’m sorry to leave on this note but I need to see Eldin about some information.” Ledd’s ears drooped and he began his fidgeting again.

 “About that….”

“The bug guy’s not letting anybody in,” a new voice said. It came from a blonde Mogma a few feet away that Link vaguely remembered. “The whole door is sealed up tight and he just sits in there groanin’ all day long. It’s giving me a headache,” he said, flailing his arms out in exasperation. “Somebody’s gotta talk to him!” Link frowned, looking out across the lava flow to the dragon’s door. It appeared normal from this distance but he trusted the Mogmas.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Link promised, waving one hand at Ghirahim to follow before hustling off across the sanctuary. The demon huffed impatiently but followed along nonetheless, a strange feeling of dread creeping up his spine.

The grand door leading to Eldin’s sanctuary, at first glance, appeared entirely normal. So much so that Link immediately made to open it. A firm hand clamping down in a vice grip on his shoulder stopped him mid movement. Blue eyes looked back questioningly at his companion.

“Link. I advise you, as your extremely knowledgeable and experienced weapon, to be on your guard. Something is not right behind this door.” Link studied Ghirahim’s face, startled to find him completely serious. Dark eyes met blue in a single intense gaze before sliding past him to the door. Following his gaze, Link saw what was causing the other man’s discomfort. Along the seams of the door, where they met superheated volcanic rock, ice spread like cobwebs. As they watched, it would melt from the heat with a hiss before reconstituting.

Almost like the door was breathing.

Link reached over his shoulder to grab his shield, holding it loosely. The sword was left in its sheath, though the hero itched to hold it by his side. It was best not to appear hostile if it wasn’t necessary. “What the hell is that?”

“A snowball in hell,” the demon commented, eyes rolling before settling on the hero’s profile. Link turned to him with a small chuckle but the graveness of the situation had the joke falling flat. “Shall we press forward?” Link grunted in agreement and used his shield to nudge the door open. A dusting of snow fell from the door jamb, falling on the hero like powdered sugar across his shoulders.

Link’s felt the blood rushing to his ears as he tried to take in the scene before him. The great vaulted ceilings of the chamber, once an earthy green and beautifully patterned with oriental flames, now sported large shimmering icicles that hung dangerously from the ribbed beams. The walls themselves seemed to be frozen over, the shiny ice reflecting the light from the lava below. The incongruence made Link’s stomach churn but none of that was quite as disturbing as the great dragon himself. 

Eldin sat hunched over on himself in the pool of lava that perpetually ebbed and flowed at the center of the room, his once brilliantly shining scales now dull and unreflective. A dying ember in a suffocated fire. Link approached slowly though it didn’t seem the dragon was going to acknowledge him regardless. “Your highness?” he called cautiously, hand creeping back towards his blade. Ghirahim stood off to his side, no less weary as he quietly dug his heels into the rusty colored dirt defensively.

The dragon raised his head slowly, frost and tiny icicles falling off his body as if this was the first he’d moved in a lifetime. The tinkling of shattering ice was an eerie harmony. Glowing orange eyes rolled to look at the boy and then past him, narrowing in fury as they settled on the demon. The volcano god drew himself up to full height, rushing forward towards the hero and his companion like a raging bull out of control. With only a split second to react, Link dove in front of Ghirahim with an arm outstretched to shield them both.

 “How dare you come in here you miserable wretch!” The dragon’s roar shook the room, rattling more icicles free of their hold on the ceiling. They rained down, nearly impaling the hero when he tried to dodge them. “This must be your doing. This human child was said to have banished the evil of this land, yet you still stand here with your head upon your shoulders and evil in your eyes!” Smoke billowed out of his nostrils and from the flaming horns atop his head. The look upon his face was that of illness induced delirium. “You spread this disease across our land, tainting that which you can never hope to obtain. You vile, silver-tongued knave, you are brave and foolish to enter a dying dragon’s lair!”

 A thick yellow tail, now encased in hard blue ice, swung at them from the side; too fast for Link to react and save them from being knocked back. Bracing for the hit, Link dug his feet into the ground to minimize the pain but he was bodily shielded by the other man crushing the hero to his chest. There was a loud clang of scales against metal and Link was thrown to the side, rolling across the hard frozen ground. Ghirahim landed heavily next to him, chest heaving. Darkness, like hot sticky tar, crept across the demon’s shoulder to his neck, bleeding across his face, and the heavy scent of hot metal wafted off of his body. Eldin was growling, sinking back into his pool of lava until only his eyes peered at them over the surface.

 Link rose to his feet, drawing his sword from his back. Ghirahim was recovering though he looked haggard, hunched over as if all the wind had been knocked out of his lungs. Under his platinum hair a streak of black ran under his eye. The hero eyed him with concern but drew his attention back to the dragon. “Your highness, please. What’s happened to you?”

 “Evil has slipped it’s gloved hands around my life,” the dragon grumbled angrily, eyes fixed on the demon lord. Quirking an eyebrow up, Link turned to face Ghirahim.

 “Something you want to tell me?”

 “What you’re implying is frankly insulting. As if I’d do something so sloppily half finished and then lead you right to it,” he responded, crossing his arms. The movement looked strained and the dark black metallic substance had yet to recede from his arm. He turned to the dragon with cold eyes and a harsh scowl. “Setting aside your partially unfounded accusations, I am not to blame for the…” he ran his eyes over the dragon’s body as it rose from the lava pool, hardly concealing his distaste, “...blight you’ve contracted. Though I am powerful, and believe me I am, I do not possess the affinity for environmental manipulation. I am a _sword spirit_ . Perchance I did have those powers, I am incredibly _weakened_ by previous events,” he said, pointedly looking at Link. “I am not in the position to nor do I have the inclination to harm this land which has so unexpectedly become my home.”

 It was quite a speech, Link had to admit. He hadn’t particularly suspected Lord Ghirahim as the culprit for this bizarre plague. Not once did he witness Ghirahim using environmental powers during a fight, even at the end with a broken mind when he knew he would be killed. It would be incredibly foolish to make up this whole ridiculous plea for help and then go straight to your archenemy. Still, he sort of relished the demon’s defensiveness. If he was defending himself, than he at least valued his honor if nothing else.

Regardless of all that, Ghirahim had been nothing but helpful up to now. Even his outburst the previous night earned points in his favor. Nearly all of Link’s suspicion had slipped away though he wouldn’t make the mistake of entirely counting out the demon’s nature.

“I accept that you find me unpleasant but I ask, if only on behalf of the goddess hero so helpfully idling off to the side, that you let me examine the ice. I am one of _many_ who despise the surface dwellers. Certainly, there are some still willing to go so far even after the sealing of Demise,” Ghirahim argued. He was surprisingly diplomatic for someone who had been insulted nearly moments before. The grave expression he’d adopted outside the door had returned as he stood with his arms at his sides.

Eldin was not so impressed. He crossed his arms, a movement that seemed to cost him energy he couldn’t afford to lose. Silence ruled over the trio as the dragon seemed to contemplate this offer. Link sidestepped closer to Ghirahim, storing his sword on his back once more though his hands twitched to keep it by his side. It was apparent that they needed to be seen as non-threatening and waving a sharp metal stick wouldn’t help the situation. The demon glanced over at him, face unreadable but not angry, a good sign if any. 

“You’re logic is sound. I don’t trust you, nor will I ever trust an evil being, but I trust that demons are wicked and therefore hold no bars against selling one another out,” Eldin said, teeth gritted and eyes narrowed. “I have no choice should I want to live upon this plane and so I will let you observe what has brought a punishing deity to its knees.” His feet touched down upon the hard ground as the great dragon settled down in front of the duo. With a groan, he lifted his tail and drug it across the ground. The deep blue ice surrounding it was slowly creeping up his body like blue fingers grabbing at his flesh. Ghirahim crouched down, kneeling on the ground despite the heat burning through his clothing. Link joined him, careful not to put his knees to the floor.

“How is it possible for ice to stay solid in this kind of environment?” Link asked aloud, reaching out to feel the surface. Ghirahim stopped him, gently grabbing the hero’s outstretched hand and pulling it away. The blonde felt his cheeks heat up but willed himself to ignore it.

“Don’t touch unless you want to lose your fragile little fingers. It’s not surface ice. It has been summoned from the under realm. This kind of ice formed in a very specific location,” the demon surmised. Running a gloved finger along the ice, he whispered something in a language Link couldn’t begin to comprehend. “We should discuss this later when we can avoid the eyes and ears of those who should not hear what I must tell you.” The dragon craned his head to eye them both suspiciously. Ghirahim stood up, pulling the hero with him before dropping the hold on his hand. “Thank you, your highness, for allowing us to examine you.”

“I take it you have the answers you are looking for?” the great fire god rumbled, moving to sink back into the lava.

“Actually,” Link began, shooting his companion a questioning look before turning back to the deity floating above them. “Your highness, there’s something else.”

\--------------------------------------------

The hot afternoon sun beat down with unforgiving intensity upon the creatures of Lanayru desert. Pipit wiped a gloved hand across his forehead, trying not to think about the sunburn that he knew was slowly roasting his fair skin. In front of him, Karane chatted amicably with Masa, picking the cat like creature’s brain for information. They’d gotten started on the topic of foreign weapons and soon enough Pipit fell behind. He wasn’t particularly bothered, talking weapons got old fast and it gave him time to think.

Masa’s talk about the frozen sand sea threw him for a loop. How in the world could ice survive in this heat when just hours of exposure threatened to roast a human being? It couldn't be something from the sky, they’d hardly ever reached a temperature low enough for snow and it was brief at that. A conundrum if he’d ever seen one.

He was torn from his thoughts as they approached the secluded plateau the thunder dragon resided on. The trip through the mines had been quick but they had continued on foot for much of the distance. The yellow knight would be relieved when he finally got indoors again, if only to bath in a vat of healing potion to relieve his burns. Up ahead he could see the grand yellow dragon lying on the ground, speaking enthusiastically to a carbon copy of Scrapper. Hopefully the wise thunder god would be as amicable when speaking to strangers.

“Pip, you alright?” Pipit looked away from the dragon to his girlfriend who had fallen into step with him. She looked concerned, beautiful eyes roaming over his face like she could find an answer from his flushed skin. “You’ve been pretty quiet.”

“I’m fine, Kara. Just a little sunburned. I’m not built for this kinda heat,” he assured, chuckling a little. Her lips quirked up in a smile but she didn’t seem convinced. “I’m worried about Kukiel. I hope she’s alright out there.” Karane reached out to grab his hand, giving it a quick squeeze.

“I know, Pipit. We’re all doing the best that we can. Maybe the dragon will have some information or at the very least some wise advice,” she suggested. “I can’t help thinking Link should’ve contacted us already. I know we said only to message if something went wrong but I have this bad feeling.” Pipit frowned but squeezed her hand back before dropping it, hoping it would bring the same comfort it brought him. They didn’t have time to discuss it further.

“Ah, y-your highness,” Masa began, their voice quivering as they approached the deity. “I believe it’s been some time since we met!” Masa’s large ears flicked back and forth nervously as they wrung their hands together.

“Ah ha ha, Masa! It has been a mighty long time and so much has happened!” Lanayru rumbled, the clouds that billowed from his tail grew large and puffy in excitement. Pipit and Karane shared an incredulous look, watching the exchange from a few paces back. “I see you’ve brought along some companions. Well, step forward little ones!” A clawed hand gestured for the two skyloft knights to approach. Cautiously, the stepped up behind a quivering Masa. “you look familiar, perhaps we’ve met before?” 

“Ah, sir, we’re here on behalf of the goddess hero, Link,” Karane spoke up, shielding her eyes with a hand as she looked up. “We apologize for interrupting but Masa was kind enough to share their time with you.”

“Oh! Link sent you? I wonder why he hasn’t come himself,” the dragon said, scratching at his fluffy beard in thought. Karane looked over at Pipit, urging him to speak up.

“Link would have come himself, but he is on a rescue mission,” Pipit said, hands clasped behind his back as he stood stiffly. “You see, we’ve come to ask you some questions.” Lanayru seemed interested, his scales shimmering in the hot sun as he bent down for a closer look at the humans.

“A heroic task that only he may take on, I’m sure.” Pipit twisted his mouth into what he hoped was a smile and Karane nodded enthusiastically. The deity eyed them for a moment longer before seemingly satisfied. “Well, tell me your names, young knights, and I shall endeavor to answer your queries.” The knot of anxiety in Pipit’s stomach relaxed. He’d been worried that Link’s name wouldn’t hold enough sway to get them an audience with Lanayru but it seemed his worrying was unnecessary.

“I am Pipit, senior knight of Skyloft.”

“And I am Karane, senior knight of Skyloft and weapons...enthusiast,” Karane said, joining Pipit in bowing formally to the great dragon.

“Pipit and Karane, names so interesting they _must_ originate from the sky. I welcome you to my vast desert,” the dragon said, his voice booming across the clearing as he leaned in close. “Now, ask me your questions.” The two knights shared a look before straightening up, ignoring the flash of fear let out evoked by dragon’s close scrutiny.

“Your highness, a child from our village has gone missing.” The great dragon frowned and motioned for Pipit to continue. “We believe she was taken by some kind of creature a few days ago. It, _whatever it was_ , left a trail of blood that melted our weapons like some kind of acid.” Lanayru nodded thoughtfully, scratching once again at his fluffy beard. “Have you heard anything? Perhaps someone from your land may have seen something?”

“Nothing has been brought to my attention as of yet,” Lanayru said, sitting up straight once again. “I am afraid we’ve been dealing with another problem here in the desert. I had hoped I might see Link soon to ask for his help.” Masa coughed loudly, looking as if they wanted to interrupt but didn’t want to appear rude. All three turned to them with expectant eyes.

“Ah, I believe I know of what worries you,” Masa began, ears twitching atop their head nervously. They wrung all four of their feline like hands together as they spoke. “You see, in my travels I’ve seen much of the lands on the surface. I came today to inform your highness that the sand sea has begun to ice over!” Masa’s big green eyes grew round as  the dragon let out a growl of frustration. “I-I’m sorry, your highness, it’s just what I’ve seen!" 

“Of course, dear Masa. No need to apologize. I have had many reports over the past month that the conditions of the desert are...changing,” Lanayru said, turning around to look out over the desert behind him. “I can feel it, like a disease infecting the land. The chill has begun to creep in like a weeds across the sand dunes.  There hasn’t been widespread panic yet, but just yesterday, this was brought to me,” the great dragon said, motioning to a robot sitting off to the side. It brought forward a chunk of blue stone attached to a box. Lanayru set it down in front of the knights before tapping a claw against the box to activate the time shift stone. The blue stone began to glow and the box opened, revealing what appeared to be fresh snow. It was powdery and pure white, not a flake disturbed as if someone had left the box outside to collect it on a winter day. The knights peered closely at the contents, unsure what to make of something quite so unusual.

“Excuse me, your highness, I don’t mean to sound ignorant,” Karane said, looking up from the box. “But how can snow survive in this environment? I have heard the temperature drops drastically at night but wouldn’t the snow immediately dissipate upon being exposed to direct sunlight? Even where we come from, up in the sky amongst the clouds, snow doesn't last long under the sun." 

“You are correct in thinking that, young knight. Temperatures decline as the sun sets but, I fear, not enough to entertain the thought of such weather. This is not the work of the goddess’ cycle of nature. Just as I said the cold creeps in, the dark energy of an evil presence gnaws at my being. I am certain this is the doing of some demon,” Lanayru said, sighing. “I had great hope that this land would no longer be plagued by evil after the downfall of Demise. Young Link has done this land a service we cannot ever repay and I am hesitant to impose on his life any further.”

“Your highness,” Pipit cut in, his big earnest eyes looking up at the deity. “Link is a great knight, a humble hero, and an amazing friend. He’s been supportive through rough times and has shown strength in his beliefs. I may not speak on his behalf, but as his friend and comrade, I can assure you he, as well as myself and Karane, will do everything in our power to solve this predicament. It’s not imposing on Link’s life. I have no doubts that he would say the same thing.” Pipit’s speech was followed by a beat of silence before Karane spoke up.

“I have to agree. But if I can speak freely, Link has been lost since the end of his quest. It’s been...painful...to watch him listlessly walking through life each day without direction. I believe he’ll put his full effort into this situation because it’s where he excels.” The dragon seemed to think on these words, looking between each knight. Finally, he turned his back to them and gazed distantly at the clear blue sky.

“I was once young and fierce as your dear friend. I set out to prove myself worthy of my clan by way of war. I defeated many evil beings at the time of the three goddess’ and saved countless lives.” He was silent for a moment before turning back to them, expression grave. “Tell me, have you experienced battle?” When they shook their heads the great dragon sighed. “Winning a battle, defeating an enemy, is a glorious feeling. Even better, is the look on the faces of those you saved from peril. But it is the faces of those you do not save, the ones whose lives are utterly destroyed or have their whole family slaughtered...they are the ones you remember. I, too, lost my sense of self when all was finally safe and Demise was sealed away the first time. I roamed the desert, unable to settle and unwilling to walk a different path than the one I was on to self destruction.” Lanayru seemed lost to memory, staring off far into the distance as if he were reliving his darkest moments.

“How did you survive?” Karane’s voice was quiet.

“Hylia intervened.” Lanayru seemed to bring himself back into the present and he crossed his arms across his rotund chest. “She offered me this desert that I was so fond of and asked me to take it, its secrets, and its residents under my charge. Here I reside, keeping the peace in this arid sea." 

“That must have been horrible,” Karane said, leaning against Pipit. He itched to bring his arm around her or even hold her gloved hand but he kept the impulse in check. Knight training said to be professional and if Link could do it, so could a knight two years his senior.

“No need for sympathy,” the dragon said, chuckling. “I am proud of my battle scars and what I have overcome. However, I urge you to see my story as a cautionary tale. Young Link, yes, that is what he is... _young_ , has accomplished what most, no, _all_ others could not and though the land has slowly recovered it is possible that he still suffers the vice grip of evil. I wandered because I had no attachments, nothing to tie me to any one place. Before my eyes were the faces of those I could not free from the wrath of darkness. I do not know his life, what is important to him, but I am certain, if what you have described is accurate, this is what plagues your friend. I cannot ask Link to sacrifice any further. Yet, I know not who to turn to if not him.”

The clearing was silent as both knights mulled over the dragon’s advice. Pipit’s mind wandered back to the recent past, to the brief moments he’d interacted with his friend after the return of peace. It was true that Link’s smiles had been strained, though now he wondered if they were completely forced in order to avoid scrutiny. How long had all the Skyloft people ignored the signs of Link’s unhappiness? How long had _he_ brushed off his friend’s misery thinking it was just fatigue? It was unsettling, thinking that he could be one of the few people Link had trusted and still miss the hero’s silent cry for help.

Clearly, Karane had noticed early on and held her tongue. Pipit wondered why she would keep such observations from him considering they’d been the two biggest supporters of Link’s happiness since he’d gotten them together. It wasn’t wise to ask her about it in front of present company. Keeping silent, he shot her a look that assured the other knight she was in for an interrogation after this was over.

“Do not fret, young ones. I doubt Link is so far gone that you cannot reach out to him,” Lanayru said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully once again. Pipit snapped his head up from looking at his scuffed boots, taking in the wise dragon’s expression. “He has the support and compassion of those who stand by him. That is more than I had and so I believe he will be fine. My words are simply meant to remind you that being a hero does not come without consequences and you should not expect Link to be impervious to the emotions that come with them.”

“Thank you,” Pipit said, eyes shining. “Your words are kind and wise. I think we have some things to think about but we’ll definitely continue to support Link, even if it means sharing his burdens.” The dragon stopped stroking his chin to consider the boy with amusement.

“...yes, well, I see Link chooses his friends with great care.” He was silent for a moment before turning abruptly to address the Land of Metals representative. “Masa!” The booming voice startled the creature and they nearly dropped their pack. “My dear friend, I am terribly sorry for excluding you. I believe we have some business to attend to before I send all of you on your way.”

\--------------------------------------------

“It’s so cold.” Kukiel’s voice shook as she hugged herself tightly, hoping to chase off the chill settling into her bones. Crouched tightly in a cupboard, she tried to understand what was happening to her. She’d been talking to the pretty man, the one with the moon hair. Momma had called her back in to sleep but she didn’t remember anything else. When she woke up there were these ladies brushing her hair. They told her to be quiet or they would have to cover her mouth with a cloth. She was so _scared_. she’d run off down the hall of wherever she was until she found this cabinet to hide in, hoping the ladies would leave her alone.

Batreaux! He would come save her! If the people who took her didn’t find her than she could just wait here until she was rescued! Her plan would work, she knew it. All she had to do was stay hidden and quiet.

Just as she was congratulating herself on being so smart, she heard the door to the room open with a creak. Heavy footsteps and the patter of paws against the ground had Kukiel holding her breath with both hands clamped over her mouth. Her whole body shook as she heard the sound of a dog sniffing the air, drawing nearer to her hiding spot with every step it took. “My dear girl, I know you’re in here.”

Kukiel flinched. The voice was scratchy and sounded evil in the quiet of the room. What if this was the man who took her? What could she do? There was nowhere to run. Oh, she wanted to go home. She felt tears overflowing from her eyes and tried not to sniffle. “Please, there’s no reason to fear me. I knew you must be scared and cold so I brought you some warm cider and a blanket.”

...Well, that did seem pretty nice right now. She tried to peek out but couldn’t see anything. The smell of apples and cinnamon wafted in through the crack in the cupboard. The man didn’t _seem_ bad. Maybe he was like Batreaux! Maybe everyone thought he was mean but he was just misunderstood! Did she really want to risk it, though? “You don’t have to come out now. I’ll leave these here for you.” She heard the sound of a cup being placed on a table and the rustle of a blanket being placed on a chair. Footsteps started up again as the man began to leave. She made up her mind, drying her tears. 

“Wait!” The man who had brought the cider was nearly to the door when the little girl burst out of her hiding place. With his back to her, he let his gnarled face break out into a smug grin. “Wait, please don’t go. I’m sorry I ran away.” Fixing his face into something more friendly, the man turned around to face his little charge.

It took all of Kukiel’s manner that she’d learned from her parents not to scream at the man’s horrible face. It was disfigured, his nose distinctly crooked as if it had been shattered and never healed properly. One eye was bright blue, as if made from crystal while the other was dark black with a scar across the lid. A light sheen made his skin appear to be wet though he wasn’t dripping. Overall, he was a monster. He was wearing a robe, or more likely a cloak, made of dark grey fur that fell to the floor. No hair was present on his lumpy head. Kukiel’s gaze fell to the creature crouching by its master’s legs. A spark of recognition flared in her eyes as she gasped. “It’s the doggy. Mister, is that your dog? He was at my house!”

“Why yes,” the man said, peering down at the creature. “Kozu here is my loyal companion. I brought him to keep you company since you must be lonely.” The “dog” shuffled it’s way over to the little girl, nudging her gently with its nose. The little brunette giggled, patting Kozu on his feathered snout. Orange eyes shut as Kozu relished the first kind touch he’d received in decades.

“Wow, thank you so much! I was so scared that you were a bad guy but you remind me of my friend Batreaux! I meeting so many new people, like you and the man with the moon hair.” The little girl continued to lavish attention on her new friend as the man watched. She was so trusting, something he would have to remedy once she was loyal to him. Her mention of someone with pale hair intrigued him but he wouldn’t interrogate her now. It wouldn’t do to scare the girl when he was trying to gain her trust. “Oh, mister, what’s your name? I’m Kukiel!”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, miss Kukiel. I am, as my friends call me, Lord Zaros,” he introduced, curving his cracked lips into a smile. Kukiel gave him a toothy grin, her little cheeks flushing as she wrapped her tiny arms around Kozu’s feathered neck.

Yes. She would do exceedingly well as his new queen. She would be a ruthless sovereign  and he her wise advisor. No longer would he be forced to ally himself with low life cretins in the demon realm, reduced to using cheap tricks to stay alive. All these years, stuck at the bottom of the pile while being overshadowed by his peers, would pay off once he became one of the most powerful beings on the surface. His queen would be no more than a puppet, brutally enforcing his laws from her false throne while he whispered poisoned words into her ears. One day, he would rise above the legacy of Demise, claiming the rightful title of King of Demons where he should have been all along. One day, he would make the demon realm pay for passing over him when it came time to appoint Demise’s weapon, claiming he was too unstable to be of any use. He would prove them wrong.

And most satisfying of all, he would prove he was leagues better than that _useless sword spirit_ they’d chosen instead.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all. I'm a few days late since I wanted to post this on Thanksgiving but better late than never, yeah?
> 
> Thank you so much for the kudos and encouraging comments! I appreciate them more than anything!
> 
> I'm already working on chapter 10 so I hope y'all enjoy this one!
> 
> As always, all mistakes are mine and a result of staring at my screen for WAY too long.
> 
> -Wren

The rain that fell from the sky over Eldin province hit the superheated ground with a hiss, causing plumes of steam to rise into the air. The smell of wet, hot earth tickled the goddess hero’s nose, his eyes watering as he held back a sneeze. He’d taken shelter in one of the huts built by the former Bokoblin troops on the outskirts of the volcanic canyon, figuring nobody would care since the ugly creatures were as good as extinct. It wasn’t the best of accomodations being that it was so shabby but it was dry and had a bed so Link wasn’t complaining. He’d just have to ignore the stench of sweat that still lingered on the rough cloth covers.

Across his blanket, he’d spread out several maps with the intention of plotting his course to the Land of Metals. Eldin, though slightly delirious from disease, had given him good intel on the best way to reach his destination and he figured the best thing to do was plot out exactly how he’d go about it. Even if nothing out of the ordinary happened, it paid to be cautious. Hopefully, Ghirahim had been the only creep stalking him on his journey and they wouldn’t run into anyone else insidious.

Barring that situation, it would be easy enough to venture across the rest of Eldin province but they’d have to either pass over the mountains or work their way along the border of Lanayru territory. It would take a few extra days on the second route but it would keep them from encounting rock slides. Then again, Kukiel might not have a few days and he was useless without a decent sword. Perhaps they really should take the shorter way...

“Link,” Ghirahim’s voice was quiet. The demon was perched on the end of the bed, facing the hero with a solemn face. They hadn’t spoken much since setting up camp and hearing Ghirahim’s voice startled Link out of his thoughts.

“Hmm? What is it?” he asked, distracted. When the demon didn’t continue, the blonde peered up at his companion. “Ghirahim?”

“That ice will consume this land if it isn’t stopped,” the sword spirit said. He sounded hesitant, as though he was unsure if he should say anything at all. Link furrowed his brow and set down the parchment he’d been using to take notes.

“You mean it’ll spread even further? I figured it was only localized to the volcanic region,” he said, confused. The demon looked away from the hero, towards the entrance of the hut where the rain painted the sky a dull gray.

“It is a curse. Borne from malice,” Ghirahim said, face contorting into an expression of disgust. “An elemental power awarded to a weak minded nitwit. Apparently, he is foolish enough to come to the surface right after the king’s death. It infuriates me that I am reduced to a useless pet while some demented toad is able to -” He cut himself off sharply at the end. The demon’s eyes narrowed as the fist resting in his lap tightened until his glove squeaked in protest.

Link was taken aback. Sure, Ghirahim had his moments of madness, the man had so many cracks in his sanity that the crazy sometimes overflowed, but it had been quite some time since he’d witnessed such a display of anger. As he watched, the demon’s mouth twisted into a sneer that had at one time been aimed at the hero. It was almost more disturbing to witness it being directed at someone else. For now, it seemed he should leave the subject untouched. It was definitely not the time for one of the man’s famous meltdowns. “Do you know who’s causing this?”

“Do you know every human who crosses _your_ path? I may recognize the work of a frost demon but they _are_ a large clan. It could be any low life demon riding on the coattails of Demise’s defeat,” the sword spirit spat, standing up from his spot on the bed. Link watched as the man strode to the door, leaning against the frame to watch the rain fall. His muscles were tensed, shoulders hunched defensively. It was a rather distracting view and Link had to look away to keep focus on the conversation. “The king’s fall and my apparent death left the demon realm in chaos. A power grab is undoubtedly in process and those who have felt ignored or betrayed will likely rise to the occasion.”

Link rubbed his chin in thought, taking in his companion’s words. He’d honestly never considered the demon realm to have any sort of politics whatsoever. If anything, he thought they would be a seething mass of beings scraping at the barrier to the surface. To think they had advisors and positions that were appointed was quite a strange concept. “I...didn’t realize you held such a coveted title,” Link finally said, cautiously. Ghirahim chuckled as he turned back to the bed, that horrible sound he used to make when giving his monologues before battle. It made a chill run down the hero’s spine.

“Oh yes, skychild. I held the most important position any demon or creature could hope for! I, with my skills and abilities, was sought out by the king’s advisor himself to be the great Demise’s weapon. Many wanted me dead from the moment they heard the news I’d been appointed,” he said, throwing his arms out dramatically. “My future, bleak and uneventful, was suddenly changed when I was given my role. I was important. I brought honor to my family,” he trailed off on the last few words, excitement fading. “I had a purpose.”

The hero sat there, unsure what he could possibly say. He almost wanted to sympathize with the demon. Of all people, he knew what it meant to be “awarded” a position thinking it was a great honor only to realize it was a sham. And that’s what had happened to Ghirahim, wasn’t it? He’d been promised glory, the chance to sit by Demise’s side as his loyal companion, only to discover that the king was nothing but a ruthless, selfish, bastard who was willing to sacrifice anything and anyone for his own gain. To fall so far...

Link felt a bit startled by his newfound compassion. Everyday it seemed he was willing to forgive Ghirahim just a bit more for his deeds. When had he started to see Ghirahim as a creature with hopes and dreams? Just the thought of the man coming from a family and not simply being crafted from pure evil shattered some of his deeply held beliefs about demons “Don’t you still hold that title? You didn’t stop being powerful when Demise disappeared.”

“I am believed to be dead. I hold no value except to those who choose to remember me,” the demon said, so casual Link could almost believe he didn’t care. “It’s of no consequence now. It’s simply irritating to see such filth attempt to replace me.” The demon sat back in his place on the bed, eyes glued to the maps spread out in front of him.

Yeah. That was _real_ convincing. Link, with all his strength, held back an eye roll as he turned back to his notes. “I think you’re brushing things off too easily.” The remark drew the demon’s gaze up to the hero’s face. “You’re worth isn’t based off your position in life. You have intrinsic value just by virtue of being in existence.” Their eyes met in an unwavering stare until Link tilted his head. “What? It’s the absolute truth of all things in the world. A plant isn’t valuable just because it can be eaten. It’s valuable because the goddess deemed it worthy of existence. You were created not to be a powerful overlord, but to simply live. You choose how to measure your value for yourself but even if believe you are worth nothing you have that basic value anyway. Otherwise, there would be no meaning in existing at all.”

Ghirahim looked away once again to hide his flabbergasted expression. The blonde had been so matter of fact, as if he hadn’t just blurted out an answer to one of the questions pondered by philosophers of all races.. Link never ceased to surprise with his bouts of wisdom. It was enough to believe that maybe he was more than just the goddess’ puppet. “That was exceedingly philosophical, goddess child. I’ll take your word for it. Now, have you plotted our course to the Land of Metals?”

Link eyed the other man for a moment longer, wondering if his sort-of-compliment had actually come across in his awkward lecture, but recognized the need for the topic change. The air was already heavy with humidity, he didn’t need to add to it with a debate on ethics. “Almost. I want to have alternatives in case we run into any obstacles. It seems pretty straightforward,” he said, dragging his finger along the planned travel route through the mountains to illustrate just how easy it would supposedly be. “But anything that simple is bound to come with unforeseen danger. I’m going to send a message on to Pipit and Karane so they know to meet us there.”

Reaching into his venture pack, Link withdrew a blade of grass and brought it to his lips. With a gentle breath, a whistle pierced the air. It’s soft melody echoing off the surrounding canyon walls. A bird, no larger than Link’s closed fist swooped in from the sky. It’s feathers were drenched but the little thing still managed to land on Link’s shoulder with a cheerful chirp. The hero rubbed his cheek against the creature affectionately, as if he’d known it his whole life. “Spira. As fast as always,” he chuckled, letting his tiny friend nibble at this ear . Ghirahim watched on, now wondering if the boy was a not just a warrior but some kind of deity in disguise. Rifling around his venture pack, the hero brought out a tiny packet of seeds and dumped them into his hand for the bird to eat. Link noticed the strange look he was receiving and scowled defensively. “What? She follows me and I feed her so she’ll take my messages.”

“I don’t believe I said anything,” the demon replied, smirking at the other’s discomfort. In silence, he watched the blonde place a rolled parchment and place it in a finger sized bottle, sealing it with a cork covered in wax before securing it to the bird’s delicate leg. After another affectionate rub against the hero’s cheek, the bird was gone. It was all so wholesome that it almost made the demon queasy. “How utterly tooth rotting.”

He snapped his head to the huts entrance, searching the surroundings now shrouded in twilight.

Perhaps that queasiness had nothing to do with the sky child's innocence and instead with the demonic aura he was sensing from a few meters into the darkness. Beside him, Link had begun to place his feet on the ground. His hand slowly crept towards the sword leaning against the wall by the headboard. “What is that?” the boy hissed under his breath. Ghirahim hardly spared him a glance as he squinted at what appeared to be a shadow. Or multiple shadows as it seemed; approaching at a rapid pace.

“I believe we’ll find out soon enough,” the demon replied before snapping his fingers and disappearing in a flood of diamond sparkles.

\------------------------------------------------

Zelda shuddered, quickly rubbing her hands up and down her arms to generate some kind of warmth. The last light of the day was fading as the residents of Faron Woods settled in for the night. She was making her way around to each house, checking in with everyone as a good leader should. The mild weather of the day had plunged once the sun had set over the treetops, leaving her to shiver as she made her rounds. “Oh Impa, I don’t remember it being this cold when we were running from Demise,” she complained, hoping that Impa’s spirit was out there somewhere, listening. It comforted her to think the Sheikah warrior was watching over her as she once did on the Goddess quest.

Her next turn brought her to Kukiel’s house where the light of lanterns and a fire lit up the windows. It had been a hard few days since the little girl’s disappearance. The whole village had taken it as a personal blow and Zelda had struggled to convince citizens to stay on the surface. Kukiel’s parents had been avid supporters of staying despite their daughter’s disappearance and the former goddess was incredibly grateful for their strong character.

Peering through the doorway, she watched Wryna knit at the kitchen table while her husband tended a fire. Her large belly was larger still than the day before and there was no doubt her child would be born before the month was over. Zelda prayed Link would have their little girl back in time for the birth of her sibling.

Careful to appear as though she’d just arrived, Zelda knocked lightly on the wooden doorframe, pulling back the fabric hanging over the entrance. Warm air washed over her as the heat of the fire began to slip out. Kukiel’s family had one of the more finished homes, though the door was still a feature needed to complete it. The couple looked up from their activities, smiling genially at the girl. Jakamar plopped another log on the fire, wiping his hands before approaching his guest. “Zelda, what brings you to our home this evenin’?”

“Oh, I just wanted to see how you were doing. I know it’s been hard waiting for Link to return,” the white haired girl said, smiling in what she hoped was a friendly way. “I just know he’s going to find Kukiel.”

“Thank you for saying so,” Wryna said, her lips turned up in a smile that didn’t touch her eyes. “I trust Link. If he could bring you back, I know he’ll find my daughter. I just wish she didn’t run off looking for trouble all the time.”

Zelda was silent for a moment, wondering what she could possibly say to this poor couple. They were incredibly generous, always willing to feed or house someone in need. Jakamar spent his time single handedly fixing up Skyloft while Wryna was a motherly figure for the children in the village. That they should be so kind in a time of suffering...it was truly astounding.

The former goddess grasped Wryna’s hand, hoping to provide reassurance. “Please don’t hold Kukiel’s adventurous spirit against her. Far too many of us are afraid to go past the boundaries of our comfort zone. If we hadn’t ventured to the surface, we may never have realized there was more to life than the sky. I know it’s hard, I want her to come home so you don’t have to suffer any longer. Just...when she does come back, please don’t be angry,” Zelda implored, eyes glistening. “She’s incredibly special and has so much compassion for those who are different. I think we could all learn from her.”

Those last words rang especially true for the for the white haired girl herself. It had been nearly a week since her three friends had left with that demon monstrosity and she felt increasingly guilty for her overreaction. After all they’d been through, she hadn’t trusted Link. Maybe she couldn’t forgive Lord Ghirahim’s actions, but she could have at least been reasonable when Link tried to explain. She hadn’t even said goodbye.

“I suppose you’re right, Zelda,” the mother said, smiling warmly at the girl. “We just want her home safe and sound.” All three stod in companionable silence until a frigid breeze swept past the fabric covering the entryway, extinguishing the fire Jakamar had been trying so hard to maintain. They were plunged into darkness. “Oh dear, the weather’s gotten so nasty.”

“Ah, honey, don’t worry,” Jakamar’s voice was reassuring but he nervously scratched at his head. “I’ll bring the fire back to life.” Zelda moved away from Wryna to help but the man waved her off. “Ah, go on, Zelda. We’re alright here. You oughta get home before you get caught in the chill.” Though she tried to protest, Jakamar herded her towards the door, wrapping an extra blanket around her shoulders. “Now try to keep warm and don’t spend so much time worrying. Link’ll bring Kukiel home.”

Zelda hesitated for a moment longer before wishing them a good evening, marching off to her own home. The wind had truly begun to pick up, stinging her cheeks with cold. She was suddenly grateful that Jakamar had insisted upon bundling her up. The night seemed permeated with cold and the moon no longer blanketed the land with pale light. Only as she approached her house, with its fire going strong, could she see anything in front of her face.

In the doorway stood Groose, silhouetted against the dim firelight. As she came closer, the look of concern on his face grew more pronounced. “Zel, I thought you’d got yourself lost out there in the dark.”

“Oh.” Zelda tugged at a stand of her hair before, avoiding eye contact. “No, I was just…checking up on everyone since it's getting cold out.” Groose looked doubtful, his lips pursing into a deep frown. The girl brushed past him, crossing her arms as she took a seat at her kitchen table. “You don’t have to worry so much, Groose. I’m just trying to take care of everyone.”

“Yeah, well, can ya blame me? Last time you went off on your own you disappeared for almost a year!” Groose argued, plopping down in the chair across from her. Reaching forward he started fiddling with a spoon that was resting on the table top. “I’m not tryin’ to bother you. Link asked me to watch over you.” As much as it left a bad taste in his mouth to refer to the absent hero, he hoped it would at least capture the attention of the girl in front of him. This wasn’t the first time she’d wandered off after dark and every time she disappeared it caused his hair to go just a little more gray.

“I know. You’re not bothering me and I appreciate you looking out for me,” Zelda replied, looking up at her friend. She stood up, clasping her hands behind her back as she walked over to the fire place, gazing into its depths. The warmth was welcome after being trudging around in the bitter cold. She pondered for a moment whether she should give away her thoughts but ultimately decided it was better to put them out there in case she was right. “Groose, I think maybe something’s wrong.”

The red head perked up from his thoughts, placing the spoon back on the table so he couldn’t see his face in the shiny metal. He was starting to look old with all this stress. “What? What d’ya mean?” Zelda turned back, her blue eyes sparkling.

“You’re right that I shouldn’t be wandering around at night,” she admitted, joining him once again at the table. “But I think something’s wrong with Faron Woods.” Groose sat back, letting out a breath of air and running his hands through his hair.

“Zel, what exactly does that mean? You’re bein’ cryptic.” Her eyes narrowed.

“I need to talk to Faron.”

\------------------------------------------------

Fi had been an amazing companion and an even better sword. She had been cool, calculating and kept Link focused. As he swung, she would correct his angle ever so slightly to give him a better chance at hitting the mark. Despite this, it was clearly Link doing most of the work. It was he who took the initial swing, whom decided when to strike and delivered the final blow. Fi would do her best to keep him objective and it had saved his life many times.

Ghirahim was different. Though Link’s hand was wrapped tightly around the hilt of his sword, there was almost a pull from the blade like it was swinging itself. Where Fi had made simple corrections, Ghirahim seemed to lust for the killing blow with such need that he hit the mark without effort. The unrefined power threatened to knock Link off balance as he attempted to ward off the creatures snapping at him. His blue eyes reflected off the blade as he went for another swing, catching a glimpse of the demon’s face looking back at him in the dying light of the day before landing a blow on one of the beasts.

Two of the creatures-called _Zree_ as Ghirahim so helpfully chimed in the hero’s head- leapt forward, shoving their wolf like snouts at Link’s feet. He managed to dodge, swinging his sword around to smack the flat of it against the left one’s head. It appeared stunned but recovered quickly, teaming up with the two to charge the hero. Rotating quickly, he flipped backwards in an attempt to create more distance. He brought his blade up in time to block a slash of claws but it threw him backwards, his boots squelching in the mud. Again and again they clashed. Blood splattered across the wet ground and mixed in with the rain, staining the ground a terrible black like hot tar.

“Blocking is hardly doing anything. You’d be better off turning tail!” The demon lord’s voice was loud with outrage in the hero’s head, distracting the blonde and causing him to lose footing.

“Either help out or shut up!” The hero dodged yet again, bringing the pommel of the sword down on the snout of a foe hard enough to knock out some teeth. The blow jarred his arm and he could swear the bones of his hand were shattered. “What the hell are these bastards made of?” His question went unanswered as a claw caught his calf, slicing clean through the thick leather of his boot but lightly scratching the skin.

It was rapidly becoming difficult to see as the rain kept falling in his eyes, stinging them with sulfur. No matter how many times he wiped his face with his tunic sleeve, it did little to help. Stepping back, his foot sunk into a deep puddle that poured cold muddy water into his boot.

The distraction cost him as he felt sharp teeth sinking into the tendons of his left arm, leaving a searing pain in their wake. The pain was unbearable, like his arm had been torn clean off. It brought him to his knees in the pouring rain, the sounds of battle fading away. Opening his eyes, he prayed to the goddess above that a missing arm wasn’t the case.

Somehow, it was worse. The arm was indeed still there but had become encased in a shell of dark ice. Tendrils of it slowly crept up to his shoulder. The burn was like no other, as if he’d taken a dip in the lava pits without his fireshield earrings and the skin was melting away leaving bone exposed. A growl from somewhere to his right was the only thing that alerted him to the incoming beast, leaving only enough time to raise his good arm and cover his face from a direct hit.

In the moments before the blow, a strange calm came over him and the thought of dying was...not unwelcome. It would end the agony scorching his veins. Anything to stop the pain. _Anything_.

Except the blow never came. Like in Eldin’s chamber, Ghirahim leapt in front of his charge and took the hit himself. His skin, which had only just faded into its natural pale hue darkened into a hard metal shell that clanged loudly as the Zree was repelled.

A sickening crunch was heard as the creature’s body hit the ground, unmoving. The other two, beady eyes wide with fear, backed away from the demon slowly. Never tearing their gaze away, they began to retreat to the woodline. A trail of crumpled feathers and inky blood was left in their wake.

Not fast enough; three tiny blades ripped through their bodies and they were no more.

\------------------------------------------------

“Groose! I don’t _need_ an escort.” Zelda pulled her arm away from the redhead's grip and continued to march through the woods, breathing in the crisp air of the early morning. They were making a scene, the whole of the village looking on in curiosity as their de facto leader stomped down the path to Lake Floria with a buff man following after her like a lost puppy. “I know how to get there, _by myself_.”

“I know that! But I promised to watch over you and things have been gettin’ a little freaky around here,” Groose whined, running a hand down his face in aggravation. His pompadour hairdo wiggled as he trailed after the girl, feet dragging. “I can’t just let you dive into the water all alone!”

Zelda huffed and continued on, determined to ignore the hulking baby she’d somehow been saddled with. It wasn’t like she was making the dive off the bridge. Just hopping through the falls and taking the back route into the water dragon’s domain. Honestly, she’d done it before. Groose was being absolutely insufferable. She looked back at him, watching his pitiful face fall even further under her gaze. Perhaps...she was being a bit harsh. She frowned and turned back to the path.

Once upon a time, the falls that covered the back entrance to Faron’s domain had stunned the Skyloft girl into silence. Though danger loomed over her every moment, her feet had refused to move at the beautiful sight as Impa led her to the first holy sight. Her mouth had gaped open like one of the fish swimming in the shimmering water, in awe of the beautiful features carved into such large stone. Impa had sighed in impatience but even she had paused to admire the craftsmanship of the Faron people.

Today, the falls were just as alluring but they held none of the joy once associated with Zelda’s first arrival. The mist, a light spray from the bottom of the falls, stung her face with cold despite the warmth of the midday sun. Just as the chill had begun to creep into the night air, the water had begun to freeze around the edges and the ice reflected the rays of sunlight like sparkling stars.

“Zelda, I really don’t like this,” Groose said, looking uncomfortable as he glanced up at the falls. She ignored him, preparing instead to walk across the wooden bridge that had been constructed not long after the Goddess Quest. It would carry her across the pool of water but she would still need to make it through the falls. She stepped one booted foot onto the wood slats and winced when they creaked. Another foot forward. This time there was a cracking noise but the wood itself seemed solid enough. Taking one final deep breath, she marched forward.

Like being stung by tons of Deku Hornets, the frigid water of the falls rained down on her. Not far behind, Groose let out a girlish shriek when the water ran down his spine. Both Skyloft residents took a moment to stabilize themselves, shaking off the water and huddling around the solitary torch lighting the walkway. It provided precious little warmth but it was enough to shake off the bone deep cold before making their way to Faron’s chambers.

The rocky walls faded from their earthy tones into an ethereal blue, pearlescent in the reflective light of the torches. As the pair moved further in, the air warmed, easing the chill that has settled in. “You’d think there’s be towels at the entrance considerin’ the falls. Don’t know how you ‘nd Link did it so many times,” Groose commented, rubbing his hands together in hopes of creating some heat. He was starting to feel the tip of his nose again but his fingertips were nearly numb. Zelda chuckled, looking over her shoulder at him.

“It was never cold outside. On a hot day, running through the woods with danger at every turn, it was like taking a soothing bath.”

Her voice turned wistful towards the end and Groose frowned. More and more Zelda was sounding as if she missed running for her life. The red head feared whatever wanderlust that had claimed Link was slowly creeping into the mind of his friend. Everyday he wondered if she would take off as well, leaving him behind as she always did. There was too much depending on her and if she left...what would become of the village? What would become of him? Would he have lost his chance to win her over?

“Sounds nice,” he responded quietly, swallowing hard on the last word. Zelda didn’t seem to notice and kept marching on, leading them down the path until they reached the throne room.

A Parella, native to Lake Floria, greeted them warily and announced their arrival to the room in a loud shout from its place in the water. They were then led to the front of Faron’s vessel and instructed to wait. Many other Parella were in the water surrounding the throne, whispering to each other in hushed squeaks. Zelda and Groose tried not to let it unnerve them but the faces all looked concerned as the wait for Faron became longer and longer.

After ten minutes of waiting, with Groose slowly becoming more irritated by the rudeness, the great water dragon appeared before the pair. Her shimmering blue scaled were as magnificent as usual but her face was much more lined than before, as if some trial had aged her. What could cause such a thing in a deity was beyond imagination and could only mean bad news.

“Young goddess, I am grateful for your visit though surprised you have come unsolicited,” the dragon said, quirking a thin eyebrow. Zelda flushed and bowed, hoping to placate the dragon before bringing up any concerns. She _had_ come unannounced.

“Your highness, I am terribly sorry for the intrusion. I should have sent a message first,” she apologized, hoping she sounded genuine. The dragon scrutinized her for a few moments longer before nodding.

“It’s no matter. I have something to speak to you about though I implore you to voice your concerns.” Zelda took a deep breath, relieved to have smoothed over the social misstep.

“I think there’s something strange happening to the woods. You see, it’s summer and it should be quite warm at night but it’s been getting terribly cold,” Zelda said, words coming out in a rush. “I’m worried for my people and the other residents. I, of course, thought immediately to come to you.” Faron listened intently, seemingly considering her next words.

“Yes, I have noticed it’s been getting a bit nippy,” the dragon said thoughtfully.

“A bit? We’re going to start losin’ fingers and turning into frozen statues!” Groose snapped, crossing his arms and huffing. Zelda cringed, elbowing him hard. He squinted at her but added a sullen “your highness” to the end of his outburst. Faron seemed more amused than angry.

“I suppose I understated the problem, young knight,” she admitted before glancing back at the young woman. “You are correct in suspecting something is not quite right. I have just spoken to Lanayru who tells me of a curse plaguing his province with ice that does not melt. I cannot even get into contact with Eldin though I assume he would give a similar report. Someone or something has brought dark magic to the land,” she said, rubbing her chin.

Zelda’s face hardened as her suspicions were confirmed. So her instincts hadn’t led her astray, but that meant she needed to come up with a plan to keep her people safe. “Your highness, how soon will this problem start to directly affect the woods? Is there anything we can do?”

“I fear it won’t be long. Water is my affinity and as such I can hold off the blight for much longer than my brethren but even I cannot stop the inevitable. The creatures under my care are able to survive because of their nature but I am uncertain what your people can endure,” the dragon said, frowning. “My advice would be to return to your land until the curse is resolved. There is no telling how long that may be and it may very well be a death sentence to stay.”

Zelda paused. The deity had raised a valid point. The Skyloft people were used to a mild climate and had never experienced the hardships of the surface. Some had never seen snow in their entire lives. Being stuck in an unfamiliar land with little to no survival skills could be as the dragon said - a death sentence. She would have to evacuate her people and abandon the Faron Woods settlement if she wanted to continue on.

“I’m afraid you’re right, your highness,” Zelda said, frowning. “I will try to evacuate my people.” Her face hardened into a look of determination and she clasped her hands together in front of her. “But even if they leave, _I_ am staying. I know how to survive harsh conditions and I will make sure that our progress is not destroyed.” The dragon appeared skeptical, her eyes narrowed as she seemed to judge Zelda’s intentions but it soon melted into a grin.

“You are perhaps foolish but I admire your tenacity, young one,” Faron said, chuckling. “I will endeavor to protect you and should you be in dire need of help, you may call upon myself and my people.”

Zelda beamed, ignoring the burning stare from Groose’s direction. She thanked the dragon and set back along the path to the village.

There’s work to be done.

\------------------------------------------------

Once again he lay prone and surrounded by a beautiful bright light but it was far from peaceful. His body hurt. So, so bad. It was worse than being impaled. It was as if someone had directly injected lava into his veins and it was melting him from the inside out. He wanted to writhe around, to curl up in the fetal position and pray for it all to end.

Goddess, _why wouldn’t it end?_ Anything would be better than this agony. What had happened to him? What could have caused such a horrific pain? He couldn’t remember. It was all so mind boggling, so all encompassing.

Dead, maybe he’s dead. What had he last been doing? Sleeping in bed seemed familiar. But he could swear he’d done other things. He clenched his eyes, or at least what he thinks are his eyes. It hurt so bad.

And then, at the top of his right shoulder, there was a soothing coolness. A small, barely there patch of relief. As if a drop of water fell from the sky onto the hot desert. There was another and another until he could feel five distinct pinpoints along the skin of his shoulder blade. It felt so good it was all his mind could focus on as he lay unable to move. He wished, deeply, that whatever was cooling him would spread across his whole body but it stayed where it was. Unable to avoid the pain, he strove to block it out.

In his mind’s eye he was sitting on one of the floating islands of Skyloft, his feet dangling over the edge as the wind gently swept his hair across his face. The sky was silent save for the constant rustle of the grass. Overhead, the moon shone brightly upon the knight’s face like the goddess herself gazing down on her people. He’d often come here as a child, when he’d first learned to ride his Loftwing. He’d bring a blanket and a sleeping pad, sleeping under the stars as they twinkled above. Sometimes, a lonely firefly would buzz by and land on his knee, it’s glowing thorax the only other source of light in the night sky.

“Wake up,” a voice called, sounding oh so far away. The wind carried it away and he turned his face back to the moon. A strange thing to hear so far from everyone else. It was probably a knight on patrol, calling back and forth to their comrade. None of them gave him any trouble when he was out here. Some would fly by to make sure he hadn’t been blown away during the night. They never said anything. On occasion, one would wave. “-ink. Wake up.”

It was getting closer and more annoying. He was out here for some peace and quiet and that didn’t include obnoxious people yelling. It was probably her again. She never left him alone. Always questioning to see if he was alright and if he wanted to join everybody. Well, he didn’t and she’d have to just deal with it. What could she do? Drag him back kicking and screaming until he surrendered to her domineering form of friendship?

He missed the days when they were closer. He’d never known his parents, only having a photo and a few precious memories of his mother, and she was the closest he had to family. When they were kids, it was the only love he’d ever known. And yet-

“Link. Wake up.” It was said as if next to his long pointed ear, in a hushed voice. The soothing feeling from earlier had migrated to his forehead, like a wet cloth laid over his skin. The light returned and the island was gone.

\------------------------------------------------

Ghirahim sighed, running a bare hand across Link’s forehead for a third time in the past few hours. The blonde’s skin was clammy now though his temperature was significantly better than before. He’d eliminated the threat from the ice beasts but Link had taken significant damage. Dark eyes glanced further down the bed where the hero’s arm was still covered in frost. The demon lord had managed to remove a majority of the ice, stopping it’s dark effects from spreading but it would take a few more hours to fully heal the boy. His skin was an angry red under the damaging frostbite and more than likely it would leave some scars where the creature dug it’s poisoned fangs into the flesh.

As weak as he was, he’d still have to create an antidote unless he was willing to let yet another master perish under his watch. He would need to rest as well but it would hardly do him any good if the child lost his sword wielding arm because he couldn’t keep his eyes open.

He’d have to stay awake until the hero returned to consciousness.

It was an irritating prospect. He’d expected more from Link in terms of combat, especially considering their past spars. How many times had he landed what should have been a fatal blow only for the boy to get right back up, determination blazing in his eyes? He’d witnessed Link pull off what should have been impossible maneuvers despite being grievously injured. Watched in frustrated awe as the hero fended off all manor of creatures thrown at him. Perhaps all the time spent tucked away in his home had softened him to the point of being...less than. He dare not call him weak, he’d underestimated the young man more than enough times to know that Link could never fall prey to being average.

Hearing the boy’s stuttered breathing, like the wheezing noise undead Bokoblins make, evoked a strange emotion in the demon lord. He found that, while he didn’t want to worship at the hero’s feet, neither did he want him to suffer at the hands of another. And in that respect, he would do his best to keep Link from chasing death’s coattail.

It was nearing dawn, the heavy rain clouds from earlier now dried up but hovering over the surface like a great wet blanket trapping in the heat and humidity. Even the demon lord found himself perspiring in the thick air. He’d since moved from his perch on the edge of the bed to once again lean against the hut’s door frame. It was a position he’d taken up repeatedly through the night as he awaited the hero’s return to the land of the living. There wasn’t more sound than the scitter of bugs across the wet earth. The darkness had already begun to give way to the sun’s light, retreating until night fell again.

“-ents. All the other…”

Link’s voice, rusty from strain, echoed in the quite hut and Ghirahim whipped his head to the bed. He waited for the hero to say more. The blonde gave a choked off cry, back arching off the blankets, before collapsing into fever ridden sleep once again. The demon frowned, abandoning all pretenses of keeping an alert watch and returning to Link’s bedside. Without conscious thought, he found his hand stroking through sweaty blonde hair and pushing it back from the boy’s forehead. It did little to help but it did quell the shivering that had begun to rack the hero’s body.

Blue eyes cracked open, squinting in the dim light of the single lit torch. Link swallowed with a click, opening his cracked lips to speak. “Where did they go?”

“They’re dead.” Link’s eyes flicked to the doorway but remained glazed, as if looking but not seeing.

“I know…. I know. They left me,” he whispered, a single tear gathering the corner of his eye and running down his cheek. Ghirahim stared silently. “They didn’t want me.”

It appeared they were no longer talking about the same thing.

“I assure you, the creatures _did_ want you, just not alive.”

Link reached out with his uninjured hand, gripping Ghirahim’s arm in a grip so tight it would surely bruise. His palms were sweaty and felt like a brand against the demon’s skin. “They could be alive, Zel. Then I wouldn’t be…”

The demon’s thin nearly invisible eyebrows rose to his hairline in surprise. Clearly Link was hallucinating, if not at least dreaming in a fit of illness.

“Where’s the gold band?”

Ghirahim followed the boy’s eyes to wear they rested on his arm. Indeed, there was a gold band missing. It had been lost, probably destroyed, during his final battle with Link. There was a subtle skin tone difference where it had once rested, blocking out the sun. Truth be told, he hadn’t thought about it in months. It wasn’t particularly special and there was no sentimental value placed on the jewelry. Curious that the sky child would notice now of all times. “Lost to the ravages of war.”

Suddenly Link looked panic stricken, his face going pale as a sheet. His blue eyes, now bloodshot, widened until they appeared to be entirely round. “No. No, they said I was left here. But they couldn’t have gone far,” he said, tearing up one again. “It’s why I’m alone.”

This had gone on far too long. The blonde seemed seconds away from spilling any and all dark secrets he held. The antidote could wait no longer.

Ghirahim hushed the boy, combing through his hair one last time before retrieving a bottle of water from Link’s venture pouch. The glass clinked against the other bottles in the bag, a red one with healing properties and a white one with effects the demon did not know. Sadly, neither contained what he needed for a cure. He’d have to improvise. But for now, he helped Link to sit up.

The downside to staying in a decrepit hut was the lack of useful supplies. He’d gotten the boy up but had no way to keep him in place as he gave him water. Link’s eyes were fluttering and every so often opened to reveal eyes that still did not see. Though he was propped against the wall, he slid down listlessly under his own weight. Rolling his eyes, Ghirahim left him there as he searched for a solution. A caretaker he was not.

The answer came in the form of Link’s shield. The demon jammed it into the corner of the bed where it met the wall, creating a makeshift backrest that he could secure the sky child to. Only when he was confident the boy wouldn’t slide down once again did he turn back to the venture pouch, emptying it out onto the bed. Eyes roaming over the contents, Ghirahim let out an irritated sigh. “The child carries a primitive weapons and jars of mysterious...substances... but nothing even _remotely_ useful in curing rare illness. As always, I fear I’ve misjudged his intelligence.”

There wasn’t much to work with but he’d have to make due. Demonic poisons were quite a bit more difficult than typical mortal illness. If he was going to do anything, he would need the red potion to act as a base. On its own it would do little to help as it did not affect dark magic but he could doctor it up. Luckily enough, there were a few plants in the scattered contents that could act as milder versions of what he actually needed. He set to work in slicing them up. “You’ve always been a ...you know you’re important to m-”

The demon peered over at his “patient” and raised one eyebrow in interest. Link appeared to be a little more out of it and the skin on his arm had begun to turn a dull gray instead of the irritated red it had been when he was first healed. “The blood must be retreating from the limb,” the demon grumbled to himself.

The blonde didn’t speak again, only groaning and squeezing his eyes shut. Ghirahim returned to his task, turning his back to the hero as he added a final ingredient. Using one of his personal blades, he sliced the delicate skin of his ungloved palm and allowed his blood to drip into the solution. The dark red liquid dispersed, turning the already bright crimson solution a muddy burgundy. It didn’t look too appetizing but his blood would enhance the effects enough for it to be effective. He tried to ignore how much energy he lost just healing a minor wound.

He turned back to Link, approaching him slowly as he tried to assess the best way to administer his antidote. Somehow, he doubted Link would hold the bottle to his lips on his own. It would be hard enough getting him to drink if he wasn’t lucid enough to hold conversation.With a put upon sigh, the demon lord pulled the boy forward and fanagled his way behind him until he had Link resting against his chest. It was an awkward position, one he didn’t particularly prefer but it got the job done. Link didn’t seem to notice, continuing to moan in what was probably great pain. Bringing the bottle of murky potion to his lips, Ghirahim encouraged the boy to sip gently.

Most of the liquid, with exception of a few errant drops, made it into Link’s mouth and already his pallor was healthier. It would be some time yet before the mixture made it to the boy’s blood system and there was still a chance, slim but still worrisome, that his body would reject Ghirahim’s magical influence. They weren’t bonded in the way Ghirahim had been with his past master and it seemed doubtful they would reach that point any time in the near future. After a moment of listening to Link’s labored breathing, the demon brought the water to his lips in hopes of keeping the boy hydrated.

There was silence as Link continued to fitfully rest against Ghirahim’s chest. The sword spirit was unsure what he ought to do next considering he’d only ever helped himself out of a bind, not someone else. Everything he did was an amalgam of the ways his mother taught him self care. It brought him back to the days he’d recover from fighting the sky child, hiding away in dark chambers to lick his wounds and let his rage fester; abandoning everything he’d ever known.

It was odd...reflecting on just how far he’d fallen into madness. After fights he’d secret himself away and lash out at any who offered help. When feeling particularly foul tempered, he would summon blades and repeatedly whip them at unsuspecting Bokoblins. It had been entirely malicious, not something he minded all that much considering his heritage, but it was a missed warning sign that he was losing his precious mind. Though his parents had practiced a kind of tolerance for lower beings, Ghirahim had always thought himself as above them. But never to the point of cold blooded murder, playing with lives like a cat batting around a mouse before viciously ripping it’s head off. The memories left a sour taste in his mouth.

He had felt the edges of his thoughts fracturing, saw them as tiny diamonds fluttering in the wind, and he had laughed. Full bellied laughs that racked his body and left him pleading with his body for tears if only to feel anything other than inescapable derangement that had him clutched in the vice grip of insanity.

Demise had thoroughly encouraged it. Had said that only when the mind loses its inhibitions can true progress be made. It had been his plan to break Ghirahim until nothing of his personality was left, until he was nothing more than a tool molded to its wielder. And Ghira.. He had been so far gone that he’d _agreed_ to such a fate. A move of desperation, looking back now.

The sword spirit looked down at his charge. Link’s eyelids were fluttering as if he were fighting for consciousness that was just out of his reach. His cheeks had warmed to a healthy rosy red, a sign that he was on the mend. So long he’d resented the boy, deemed him unworthy because he’s human, because he’s weak and was brought up amongst soft hearted bird brains. It infuriated him that this...this _infant_ could bring such a powerful man to surrender his own sanity and he-

“S’nice,” Link mumbled, sighing as he leaned further into his companion. His hair tickled the skin of the demon’s throat, making the man break out in goosebumps.

Ghirahim wanted to throw the hero off of him. He wanted to scream in anger, to let loose a stream of vitriol so harsh it would make flowers wilt and food turn to dust. How dare this mortal get under his skin and bother him so deeply! _Who did he think he was?_

And yet as quickly as it came, he could feel the anger washing away, leaving in its wake a feeling of defeat. But it felt like no other defeat he’d encountered. It was one he was willing to surrender to and to revel in.

So instead of the acrid words he’d been building up to, he responded with a quite, “I suppose it is.”

For now he understood hubris. In his anger and arrogance, he thought himself above feelings and the goddess had saw fit to curse him with affection for another.

And he hated it.


End file.
